


Truth

by Raven Elliot Conners (SometimesRaven)



Category: Original Work
Genre: 'just to get superpowers that are only useful sometimes' kind, Bisexual Character, Camp Nanowrimo, Gen, Hallucinations, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, Kidnapping, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2017, NaNoWriMo 2018, Panic Attacks, Protective Siblings, Schizoaffective Disorder, Super Soldiers, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy, Violence, camp nanowrimo april 2018, i guess?, not the captain america 'poof suddenly abs' kind, the 'went through a lot of pain and torture, tho some of them do have sweet abs 11/10 would let them defeat me in hand to hand combat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-04 12:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 53,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11555526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SometimesRaven/pseuds/Raven%20Elliot%20Conners
Summary: When they were children, their brother was stolen and their mother killed. Elyan and Lydia Moore have dedicated their lives to finding out what really happened that night, and where their brother was taken -- but the truth will throw them into chaos they could never predict.(Everything is a WIP -- the title may change, and tags will be added as the story progresses)





	1. Chapter 1

"You really think you can find her?"

Elyan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, running a hand through messy brown waves as he thought over his words. The woman sitting across from him was already distraught, as most people were by the time they came to him for help, and he was far too tired to risk pushing her into full-on panic. Which would likely end up happening if he even suggested being unable to find her missing daughter – especially after what she’d told him. _She’s not a normal kid, Detective. She has Autism. She can’t be out on her own for so long…_ He’d heard it before – parents of Autistic children coddling and overprotecting them and then wondering why they wanted their freedom so badly. Still, he had a duty to humour her for now; at the very least to make sure her daughter was okay wherever she was.

"You've given me more than enough information, Miss Grant," he began carefully, "I've found people with far less to go on." When she nodded slowly, seemingly a little comforted by that thought, he returned the gesture. "I'll get back to you in a week with any progress I might've made."

It was only when Miss Grant had given her thanks and departed that his false smile fell through to something far more weary. This job had 'runaway' written all over it, meaning the woman would likely end up with one of two scenarios: either knowing her daughter was safe but unwilling to come home, or being presented with her daughter's body. There was a slight chance he was wrong- that he'd find the girl and return her to her family for a happy reunion, but he'd taken enough jobs like this to know not to get his hopes up. Either way, Elyan was getting tired of it. Parents getting impatient with the police and coming to him instead to find the children they'd mistreated enough to drive away. But he'd vowed to help any and all that the law had failed, and this was no exception.

"'Nother runaway?" Tired eyes travelled to the doorway as his sister Lydia's Scottish lilt -- identical to his own yet far more curt -- reached his ears. She gave him a grim half-smile, bringing in a cup of tea for him and resting it on the only clear spot of his desk that she could find. When he nodded, taking the drink gratefully and leaning back in his chair, she offered a shrug, "At least they're over with quickly."

"Aye," was all he muttered in response. Quick, maybe. But certainly no less stressful.

Lydia fell silent for a moment, chewing the corner of her lip as wide hazel eyes scanned him with what was almost caution. "...Any progress with-?"

"No." Elyan shot her a glance, tired annoyance sharpening the otherwise soft brown of his gaze. He knew as soon as he'd spoken that he shouldn't have snapped, but he really, truly didn't have the energy to be talking about _that_ right now. "I'd tell you if there was."

Huffing, Lydia's expression grew stony and defensive. Before Ely could even begin to calm himself down and apologise she'd up and left again, wordlessly closing his office door behind her with just a little more force than was necessary. Closing his eyes against the sound, he sighed heavily, biting his lip and scanning through the notes he'd made- if only to give himself a distraction from the nagging guilt. Lydia's hair-trigger temper had always been there; bubbling under the surface ready to blow at the slightest annoyance. But lately she'd only been getting worse, and he couldn't say he blamed her. When he'd started hunting for missing people outside the eyes of the law, it had been as much for Ely and Lydia's benefit as it was for the people he was helping, and the longer it took him to find anything on their own case the more impatient Lydia became with the whole thing. Ever since she'd learned the truth about the disappearance of their brother, Josh, she'd made it her life's mission to find him and get him back- and as hopeless as he thought it was, Elyan couldn't fault her for it. With one last sigh, he took a long sip of his tea, resting it down and brushing a few loose papers aside to get to his laptop. No point delaying the inevitable. Bringing up the photographs he'd been given of the missing girl, he immediately set to running them through the program this specific laptop was made for; scanning through social media for any recent sign of her. From there he could run her through security cameras and camera phones. Leaving that to run, he took another moment to breathe and drink his tea, before tottering out to find his sister.

He found her exactly where he expected to: in the garden, beating so many colours out of the punching bag there that he was certain the thing would fade to grey in front of his eyes. He watched her from the back door for a moment, wary of anyone who might be watching, and marvelled for perhaps the hundredth time that month over the good fortune that allowed them to even have a garden in the first place. Usually Lydia had to make do with the bedroom to train in, and he could barely stand the thumping sound it would resonate through the house. Still, he supposed, a resigned melancholy touching his chest; this wouldn't last much longer before they'd have to move away again.

Brushing that thought aside for now, he cast his gaze cautiously around the place (grateful for the high fences blocking them from the neighbour's view), before stepping out to greet her; having to squint to shield his eyes from the bright midday sun. Bare feet padding on dry grass, his expression was sheepish as he approached her; standing just out of reach of her swings. He almost made to offer an apology but thought better of it. He knew she never took such a thing well when she was in these moods.

"Any new contracts coming in?" he asked instead.

"Nope," she huffed, not pausing in her punches or even glancing at him. _Ah_. That would explain her _particularly_  bad mood of late. Lydia's job was the only outlet she had for her aggression, and if there was nothing coming in...

"Then we should probably move on, when I'm done with mine."

"Aye." Leaving it at that, she paused her striking; only to turn immediately to Elyan himself, fists up and grinning in a playful challenge. The sunken scar to the left of her top lip (gained from one of many fights she'd been in) only served to accent the wicked quirk to her lips, and if Elyan didn't know any better he'd think she might have a chance against him.

"Is now really the- _gh!"_ Ely could barely voice a protest before she'd jabbed at him, and he only just moved fast enough to deflect the blow before she was swinging another. Her strikes were precise, coming faster than he could block them, and he grunted as her knuckles clipped his jaw, sending him stumbling. Chuckling, Lydia just barely waited for her brother to recompose himself before she was rounding on him again -- but this time he was ready for her. In a flurry of movement he'd grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer and sweeping her feet out from underneath her. He pinned her to the ground, opting to tickle her relentlessly until she squealed in defeat. It was only when she batted her hand against the floor that he let her go, chuckling as she shoved him off her and struggled to her feet; offering him a playful glare as she dusted herself down.

"I'll get you one of these days," she huffed, smirking before returning to the punching bag. As Elyan stood up, midway through dusting the dirt from his jeans, she frowned at him; eyes flicking over his outfit even as she continued to train. "Isn't that what you've been wearing all week?"

Her brother's brow pinched, gaze lowering as soon as it had lifted. He hadn't thought about it, but now he thought about it he couldn't remember the last time he'd changed. He sighed, chewing his lip as he nodded softly. "I-I think so."

Lydia stopped altogether, then, stepping away from the bag once more to fold her arms at him; only just now noting his slightly dishevelled appearance. His hair was falling a little more limp than usual, and though his beard had always been light and slow to grow, it was obvious he hadn't shaved in days. Not to mention the dark circles under his eyes -- which were already naturally prominent without the secondary rings she could see from sleeplessness. When was the last time she'd checked on him? "When was the last time you changed? Or washed? Are you manic again?"

Elyan practically shrunk under her gaze, sighing again and shrugging slightly. He wished she wouldn't put it so bluntly; though he supposed there was no other way to pose a question like that. "I've been busy."

"Too busy to take care of yourself, aye." Lydia bit back any more scathing remarks, shaking her head and huffing softly. "Well you're not busy now. Go wash. And sleep; you look like shit."

"I've still got to-"

 _"Elyan."_ The word was spoken so sharply that he couldn't bring himself to argue any further. It wasn't like he wasn't going to do it anyway -- he was just too busy to think about it. A million thoughts went through his head every day and there was no room for anything that wasn't immediately in front of him. Not to mention his job took up so much of his time and focus that when he could find himself working on more than one thing at once, he took that opportunity gladly. Sometimes that just meant he forgot to get the mundane things in there; they just didn't feel important. Arguing wouldn't help things anyway. Lydia had enough to deal with where he was concerned. If he wasn't too busy working to get things like showering and eating and sleeping in healthy quantities, he was too busy wrapped up in his own head; with the same results. Still, at least he could get more done while he was 'up' like this. Sometimes it even meant he'd get everything done at once, and if he were in the right situation he'd end up completely fixing his appearance on a whim.

With a final, defeated sigh, he tottered back inside. Miss Grant could wait a day, he supposed.


	2. Chapter 2

Elyan slept for far longer than he'd expected to, and by the time he woke he was groggy and dehydrated. His gaze turned blankly to the clock beside him, noting with a groan how late at night it was. He'd been asleep for fourteen hours. _Fourteen_. How long had it been since he last slept for so long? Maybe this was a good thing. He could hear Lydia scuffling around in another room, then moving to leave the house again, and his brow pinched -- wishing just once that she'd actually tell him what she was doing. He'd been asleep, yes, but the moment he heard her leave his head was spinning with quiet anxieties and not-so-quiet paranoia. What if something had taken her? She was probably off to conspire with someone against him. No. That wasn't right; she'd never do that. Still, he couldn't brush off the feeling, simply letting it linger there with a tired, frustrated huff.

> _She's not coming back._

The whisper was there before he could anticipate it, and Elyan groaned aloud, pushing himself to sit up and grab for the water bottle on the bedside table (which he'd left there himself. He trusted Lydia, but he wouldn't put it past her to drug him for whatever reason). "She will," he muttered firmly to himself, taking a long gulp of drink before sliding out of bed and padding towards the bathroom.

> _You drove her away. She's gone. You're too much work._

"Unlikely," he huffed, finishing up in the bathroom and heading to his office. Lydia had been dealing with him for longer than he could put a date to. It wasn't likely a week of bad hygiene would send her away for good.

> _Everything builds up eventually. The last straw. She's gone._

And besides, he decided as he sat himself down at his desk, this was Lydia. If she were going to walk out on him for something like this there'd definitely be a show and dance about it. Maybe a few broken pieces of furniture and smashed glasses. Brushing a (soft, clean) wave of hair behind his ear, he opened his laptop and set about scanning through the results of yesterday's scan; opting to completely ignore the persistent whispering until it faded to background noise (which, admittedly, took a while, and involved more than a little frustrated groaning and distracted huffing).

Maybe he should be running more scans for Josh while he was here. Elyan had moved to do so before he could even process the idea; spinning in his chair to grab the second laptop he'd dumped down the side of a chest of drawers for some reason. Probably distracted. What should he try? Searching through security footage was one idea, but he'd done that so many times now with no results that he was pretty certain he wouldn't find anything here. He should probably give up on that front until they moved. Maybe he should try and get into those encrypted files again -- the ones he'd found while searching for Josh's full name in any official documents he could find. There was one from a hospital in Perth that had been tightly encrypted and locked down to the point where to anyone searching normally it wouldn't even appear. As if someone didn't want to find that he'd been there or why.

Before he could think to do so, his attention was caught by the first laptop. A match to Grant's missing daughter. A little jump of triumph shot through his chest and he rested his second laptop on top of a pile of papers before returning to the first. She was miles away, and unharmed; the first signal he knew confirmed his belief that this was a runaway. And now the question of whether or not to chase her down personally and talk to her, or simply let her mother know where she was.

He was about to opt for the former when a loud pinging sound interrupted his thoughts. His phone? Lydia, he assumed, letting him know where she was for once. Rummaging through untidy piles of paper, he paused when the ping sounded again. That was _Lydia's_ phone, not his. It wasn't even in the room. Tutting at his own misinterpretation of the sound, he pushed out of his seat to find its source.

He found her phone in the corner of the second bedroom, left on her bedside table -- carelessly, he hoped, and not deliberately. A quick glance around the room told him her camera bag was gone, and he couldn't help but breathe a short sigh of relief. She was out taking photographs; probably to distract herself from the lack of work she'd had recently. She always did like late-night and early morning to get the shots she liked: cityscapes and rooftops, mostly. Sometimes she'd find an abandoned building or some discarded toys to work with. Either way, it meant she'd be back eventually. Still would have been nice of her to tell him that, though, and no doubt confronting her about it would end in an argument.

Shoving that thought aside for a moment, he decided to check what was pinging at her phone so incessantly; frowning a little as the number came up hidden. Unusual, for texting. Opening the messages, his frown only grew deeper. A new job, and so soon after they'd decided to move away.

_Got a job for you._

_A hit._

_Meet me._

As he read through them, another text came through. A time and place -- today, no less. Technically. He glanced at the current time again: 3:46am. So yes. Today. Was this how her jobs usually came? He wasn't in the habit of reading her messages and job offers. She didn't ask for the nastier details of his job and he didn't begin to want to know the details of hers. He knew she murdered for a living. He knew she sold weaponry sometimes, and that she had a contact for both. But this set his teeth on edge and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he was already feeling paranoid but something about this just didn't feel right.

Still, he made a mental note to let her know about it when she got home. At worst her jobs turned out to be traps -- thugs sent for revenge for other jobs, etcetera. He usually went along to those, as a bodyguard of sorts. It was a risk bringing him along when violence was such a touchy subject with him; playful fights with Lydia were one thing and he'd spent a long time training to defend himself and her, but real danger put him so far on edge he sometimes found himself tipping over the balance. Panic attacks and meltdowns in the middle of a fight were inconvenient, to say the least. But he could usually at least keep it together long enough to get them out of danger, and anything was preferable to letting his sister take on these people by herself. He'd exchange the uncertainty of her survival for a few moments of panic any day.

Resting the phone back where he'd found it, Elyan heaved another sigh and returned to his work, eyeing over the data and paperwork a few dozen times before deciding he was in no mood to focus on any of it right now. Not when Lydia could be in danger.

"Which we already established she isn't," he mumbled to himself, but wandered away from his desk to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. When was he supposed to take his medication? Morning and night, he knew, but what did this count for? He was pretty sure he'd missed the night dose by now-.. should he take it now? But then the morning dose would be so soon... Maybe he should just leave it to Lydia to figure that out for him. He hated relying on her like that, but sometimes he just couldn't wrap his head around it.

Realising that attempting any kind of rational thought was pointless, he sat himself down in the living room; flicking through a book as if that would distract him before abandoning that idea as well and flicking on the television. Neither of them really watched it -- Lydia preferred her horror and action films to TV shows whereas Elyan preferred to be working or reading. As such there was an old, barely-working DVD player that they'd rummaged through charity stores to find, and the television itself was configured for Ely's needs: security. If he was too concerned about Lydia being gone or someone potentially approaching the home unwelcome, he left the screen to run footage from the security cameras he'd set up around the property (and hidden a little down the road) so he could have some small comfort that he'd know when someone came.

And that's exactly what he did now, settling on the sofa and attempting to read his book again; one eye on the screen for any signs of his sister returning.

The sun was peeking over the horizon when she finally came home, and Elyan was at his wits' end. His books had lost their effectiveness in distracting him, and even the security footage had lost its comfort. He was convinced something had happened to her -- no matter how much he tried to reason it out, he couldn't stop believing it. Even as he lifted his gaze to see her on the screen making her way back to the house, it took him a long moment to convince himself it was actually her and not some replacement sent to fool him.

His expression was blank but his eyes were steely as he left the house to greet her in the drive (a habit he'd picked up somewhere along the line for reasons he couldn't quite remember anymore. It just felt better). Lydia seemed as stressed as ever; flicking through the pictures she'd taken on her camera with a frown so small it just barely pinched her brow. When she glanced up and noticed the look on his face she attempted to ignore him and walk straight inside, but Ely was already moving to follow her and by the time she was in he was watching her from the doorway, arms folded.

"Got something to say or are you just gonna stand there all day?" she huffed, already knowing what was coming.

"You could've told me where you were going." His voice didn't betray the pounding in his chest or the whispers in his ears, but Lydia still winced at the tone of it -- the flatness somehow making it all the worse.

"Aye, well you were asleep. I was gonna text you but I forgot my-"

"You could've woken me. I need to know where you go, Lydia. You know th-"

 _"Yes I fucking know!"_ The snapped response was out of her mouth before she could control it, and her gaze lifted sharply to glare at him. "I fucked up, okay? Get off my fucking back for once."

"Anything could've happened to you." Ely's tone didn't waver, even as her raised voice set him even further on edge. "A note-- just some small courtesy is all I-"

"I get it!" Lydia slammed her camera down with a snarl, hands tugging in her hair for a moment, "I fucked up, I get it. Anything else I've done wrong or are you just gonna go on all day about the same fucking thing like you always do?"

Elyan fell silent with a sigh, shaking his head gently and leaving the room. This would bug him until they talked it out but he knew he wouldn't get anywhere with her until she'd cooled down. A frustrated yell followed him as he shut the door behind him, but he ignored her and returned to his office, deciding maybe his work was interesting enough to deal with after all. He was well used to Lydia's outbursts, but the noise in his head was already making it difficult to think and he knew he wouldn't be able to deal with it right now -- and when he snapped too, it always ended a dozen times worse than it would have in the first place.

Brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, he quietly sat back at his desk, taking a moment to remember what he'd been doing before settling back down to stare at his laptop. If he was going to chase down Grant's missing daughter and talk to her himself he had to keep tabs on where she was, and that meant keeping an eye on security in her area until he had the chance to go get her. Humming softly, he scrolled back through the footage he'd already gotten, frowning a little as he watched it rewind. Something wasn't right. When his software had made the match, he'd watched her enter a gas station. Hours later and, according to the footage, she hadn't left. And yet in that time another car had arrived -- and not just arrived, _appeared_. Someone had looped the camera's footage, and apparently left in such a hurry that they hadn't thought to wait until a less suspicious moment to put everything back to normal. Almost immediately his head was spinning with possibilities (what if it's them what if they're kidnapping people again what if they come to finish the job), but he sucked in a breath and forced some kind of focus, sifting through the mess in his head and plucking out the few things that could have been likely.

One - she really, really didn't want to be found

Two - she could have gotten in with the 'wrong crowd', perhaps staged a robbery

Three - she is _one of them she's coming for you she's coming for-_

"Enough!" Elyan didn't raise his voice but the snap was apparently forceful enough to catch Lydia's attention, because she'd cautiously stepped into the room not moments later, looking considerably calmer and a little sheepish.

"You-.. you okay?"

His gaze flicked up, sighing a little as he saw her there and nodding slightly, "Aye, there's just-.. I need a hand."

Swallowing, she matched his nod and tottered forward, closing the door behind her in a symbol of courtesy he appreciated. "I'm-.. sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. Or gone off without telling you, I-.. I'll leave you a note next time."

Elyan brushed off her apology with a brief, grateful smile, any tension still in his mind from their encounter released immediately by her promise -- that was all he'd needed to begin with. He was going to ask if something in particular had her worked up today, but she'd already made her way to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder at his screen with a questioning gaze. "What's up?"

"Miss Grant's daughter. I found her heading into a petrol station a few hours ago. Except somebody looped the security footage just after she went in."

"Shit." Lydia glanced between him and the screen, chewing at the corner of her lip in thought, "And you think maybe it's..."

She didn't finish the sentence, but the implications of her tone were enough for Ely to nod just slightly, fingers tapping anxiously against the wood of his desk.

"Okay." Though the edge of impatience and fatigue was still in her voice, her tone held the practised kind of calm that came with a lifetime of caring for her brother. "Okay, so. Besides that, do you have any theories? Talk it out with me, or whatever."

He told her, with no lack of stammering and trailed-off sentences, the grand number of two theories he'd managed to come up with, and she paused once again to think. "Well let's stick with those ideas for a tad, and then-.. then maybe when I go on my next job we can take a detour, aye?"

"Aye, about that-"

"I got the texts," she assured him, nodding softly, and a knot in his chest untied just slightly at how genuinely nonchalant she sounded about it. Maybe it was just his paranoia making him worry about this. "I'll do whatever they want doing, grab my pay and then we can go see about your missing lass." Shrugging, Lydia tottered away to sit down across from him, resting her chin on the desk with a hum, "Either way it'll be my last job here probably. I can't afford to keep waiting around for them like this. So I'll do my thing and then we can go do yours for however long it takes. Whereabouts is the station?"

 Running a hand over his face, Ely managed to stammer out what he hoped was the actual location of the station, "But you should uh-.. check for yourself before we go."

Lydia nodded quietly, "D'you need anything else? I've got fuck all to do before I gear up, so-.. whatever you need, aye? Should-.. should I let you be for a while?"

Chewing his lip quietly for a second, he almost nodded out of habit -- but caught himself before he could dismiss her like that. Between yesterday and today, he was quickly coming to realise he might need her around after all, especially when she'd already been gone for so long. "...no," he murmured.

The tiny frown already touching her brow grew a little deeper, and Lydia pushed carefully to her feet, "In that case, you're coming with me, and we're gonna watch something and have our tea and chill the fuck out okay?" When he reluctantly nodded and got up to follow her, she nodded again, "Good. No brother of mine's gonna sit around driving himself nuts all day while I can help it. I'll sort out when you should have your meds while I'm there."

"Thank you," Elyan sighed, unsurprised when she shrugged it off with barely an acknowledgement. "And thank you for apologising earlier."

She didn't hear him, or if she did she chose to ignore it; already leaving the room to find a film she liked that was tame enough that Ely would too. In the end she settled on rewatching Frozen. Again. It was a weakness.


	3. Chapter 3

Lydia's job, as it turned out, was a simple one. It was the usual story: some rich arsehole with more money than sense wanted some other rich arsehole dead for-.. fucking his wife or something, she didn't much care about the details. The less she knew about her target the easier it was to get the job done. As always, rich arsehole number two was sitting in a rich office in a rich estate with plenty of rich opportunities to put a damn bullet through his head. Unfortunately, her client didn't  _want_ her to put a damn bullet through his head -- he wanted it to look like an accident. Which was something she didn't usually do, but fuck it; she needed the money and this would be easy enough. 

Rich Arsehole Two worked at a hotel _._ A hotel with a  _rooftop bar._ One that emptied out once in a while. And Rich Arsehole One gave her plenty of information on how to invite him up for a drink during one of the quiet times (thanks to Ely's skills, she could email him from one of his coworkers' addresses. The pretty blonde one, ugh). Then she'd wait for him to wander up there alone to meet her, signal Ely to loop the cameras once they'd seen him alone, follow after him, take him around a quiet corner; push, splat, _simple_.

So now here they were, hovering outside a petrol station trying to figure out what could have happened to their missing girl. Elyan had sent her hunting around the station itself for clues while he headed inside to talk to the manager. She could have helped him with that, she thought, especially considering how all over he'd been, but he'd insisted on doing it alone. And that he could get more information out of the guy, blah blah, ex-policeman skills, blah. She'd stopped listening around that point. So now  _he_ was doing all the talking and the interesting shit, and  _she_ was left shuffling around a shithole of a station with no idea what she was actually looking for. Yay, teamwork.

Even if she  _did_ find something, how would she know? There were tire marks everywhere, on account of oh, maybe the hundreds of cars that came through here? And people dropped shit all over. Cigarette butts, woo suspicious! She bloody wish-..  _oh._ Wait.  
A glint of something caught her eye. Something she recognised for some reason. It shouldn't have been anything -- just a piece of broken plastic, probably from a phone cover, but there was something altogether familiar-.. _oh!_ That was the phone Grant's kid-.. what was her name again? Jani? Apparently she'd found a clue- for a moment she thought about painting a little blue pawprint next to it and leaving it for Elyan to find. Instead, she darted back to the car, grabbing one of her brother's many notebooks and tearing out a page, which she folded in half, drew a "1" on, and left propped up beside the clue. She'd seen a couple of crime shows; time to show Ely she didn't have to be an ex-policeman to do this crap.

By the time her brother came back out, she'd reached evidence marker number five. Turns out there  _is_ a lot of suspicious crap you can mark out, when you're looking to be a nuisance. She'd even made use of the rest of his notepad, listing all the evidence she'd found and why it looked suspicious (including one that simply said _"4- bit o moldy bred. Looks like yer grumpy face")._ The amused, if slightly exasperated sigh he gave as she handed it to him was  _so_ worth it. 

"At least you found  _something,"_ he muttered, scanning through her list and glancing around the place with a frown. _Oh no._ That was an  _Elyan_ frown. The tiny pinch of his brow that you'd barely notice, lips pressed together and squinting ever so slightly in thought. The frown that said something was up with this. "The manager doesn't know anything. And by that I mean he doesn't know  _anything._ I showed him the footage and he didn't even recognise her, and neither did the staff who were on duty. It's like she was never even here."

"Huh." That-.. no, she had to hand it to him this time. That was definitely weird. "Maybe... maybe one of them saw what happened and just don't wanna tell you?"

"I doubt it," he hummed, in that slightly mumbly voice he did whenever he thought he was too smart for that. She really hated that voice, but bit her tongue; she'd already gone off on one today. Going off on another could wait until she was in a worse mood. Without another word, Elyan had wandered off to examine the things she'd found, and Lydia stayed where she was, watching him grow just a little more pale with every new thing he found. He eyed the phone piece for a particularly long time, not even touching it or picking it up. That was a sign he thought it was important, she realised with a triumphant little flutter. 

The second and third clues she'd found were both what looked like  _scorch marks_ on the concrete. At first she'd almost passed them by, thinking they must be dirt or just some dumbass setting fire to something, or maybe just marks from construction or something, but the more she'd looked at them the more they just looked  _weird_ to her. Elyan seemed to think that was an understatement, judging by the low bob of his adam's apple as he swallowed heavily. His hands were shaking -- should she go over there and help him? Staying where she was for now, Lydia decided maybe she should be watching him a little more closely. This didn't look good.

Completely ignoring her carefully marked Ely-mould, Lydia watched as he tottered over to the last suspicious thing; dried-up drops of what looked like blood, not far from the scorch marks. Elyan seemed to agree with her there, too, once again avoiding tampering with it and instead walking briskly back to the car and rummaging around in the glove compartment. Oh fuck, was he..?  _Yes._ A glint of excitement sparked in her gaze as she watched him pull out a pair of surgical gloves and some of those plastic baggies she always forgot the name of. A small handful of cotton buds followed, and their shared point-and-shoot camera. Elyan was in  _forensics mode._

She wasn't quite sure where he'd learned to do all this. He'd spent some time as a detective inspector, sure, but she was pretty sure that was more mundane than it sounded. No forensics, just office stuff and patrolling and interviewing witnesses and stuff. Maybe the finding the evidence part was something he had to do? She couldn't say she actually knew either way. There was University she supposed. Were forensics part of the Physical Sciences course? Watching him gather samples of all her findings, Lydia was quickly realising she wasn't entirely sure what her brother  _did_ in school. Probably because she was too busy being in school herself. And flunking everything. And hating Elyan for being a million and one times smarter than she was. She made a mental note to ask him about his Uni courses later. 

 His gaze was stony and shellshocked when he finished taking samples and photographs of everything. It was the same look he had in his office this morning; the same look he always had when she knew he was thinking about Josh. "Today, uh-.. t-today was your last-.." Sighing, he blinked hard a few times as if trying to force the word to the forefront of his mind.

"Job, aye," she finished for him, still eyeing him carefully.

"Then we-.. uh, I'll find somewhere to test what-.. what we have and uh-.." More blinking, and the hand that wasn't holding baggies lifted to brush his hair behind his ear. It was shaking, "And then we should go. Quickly."

"Ely." As much as she'd love to leave, this wasn't like him. Elyan didn't just run away from a case and she knew he'd beat himself up about it if he did. "You don't know anything yet, just-.."

"Oh, I don't?" There was that harshness again. The barely-there aggression masked by absolute  _calm_ that never failed to put Lydia on edge. "I do. I know this. I know it's them. I-I'm going to have to tell Miss Grant there's nothing we can do. H-her daughter is gone."

Lydia couldn't help herself. Her brother's words sunk into her chest like a fucking bullet and bubbled back up as anger before she could stop it. "Okay, well that's bullshit," she huffed, folding her arms and staring him down (up? He _was_ considerably taller than her). "What happened to being there for the people the police failed? You know they saw the crazy shit with Josh and said exactly what you just fucking said. What we're  _going_ to do," she continued with a huff, "is go home, and take another break, then get our shit together and figure out what's happened to Jani, aye?"

"Lydia, you don't-.." As soon as it had come his aggression was gone, replaced by a tired, haunted sadness that only served to darken the rings around his eyes. Lydia wasn't sure which she preferred; especially when this just made him look twice his age and half of it at the same time. “Y-you don't know what we're dealing with.”

“And? Neither do you, not really. The burn marks could be exhaust or something. She could've broken her phone so no-one could talk to her. Maybe the blood is just some nosebleed or some idiot having a fight or something; we don't even know all of this stuff is connected.” He really was shaking now. Like, _a_ _lot_. A tinge of guilt touched her chest and with another gentle sigh she reached to run her fingers through his hair; practically stroking behind his ear like a puppy. It always seemed to comfort him, for some reason. “We’ll go home, aye? You can send the stuff to be tested or whatever it is you do with that shit, and then we’ll figure out what to do from there. Even if it is them, we can’t just abandon her like everyone abandoned Josh.”

Elyan’s lips pressed once more into a tight, thin line, conflict swirling in dark eyes for a moment, before he gave a reluctant nod. “Aye, you-.. You’re right, I-..”

Cut off by a soft hush, Lydia nudged him gently towards the car, “C’mon. I’ll drive. We’ll sort this shit out, okay? It’s probably nothing.”


	4. Chapter 4

Elyan  _didn't_ have a break. Lydia tried, but the moment they were inside he'd made a beeline for his office; even locked himself in. She hated when he did that. At the very least it left her alone and useless in a house that might as well have been empty -- at worst, she had no idea what he was doing or thinking in there. It wasn't that she didn't trust him (though he seemed to think that was the case). But she'd had enough flashbacks to the days dad had needed to break his bedroom door down to be fucking terrified every time he did this.

Still, there was fuck all she could do besides come knocking from time to time in the hopes he'd still respond. He'd probably just take some time to contact his inside-people to test all the shit they'd picked up today and then he'd be back out. Right? Lydia made him tea, left it on a little tray with some biscuits outside his door (and a note that said _'sry for snappin. get some sugar aye? im here if u need me'_ ), then tottered away to down a few glasses of whatever alcohol she could get her hands on and watch the news for today's kill. 

 _Blah blah young entrepreneur blah cause of death not yet confirmed blah suspected blah suicide blah alleged-fucking-blah._ Exactly what she expected. What she _didn't_ expect, however, as she made to top up the old cheap vodka she'd found with cola, was for her phone to go off at exactly that moment.

_I know it was you._

Another unknown number. Great. Was this whole thing a setup? The last thing she and Ely needed right now was a fucking setup. She'd only ever had a proper set up once, a few years back when she was less experienced at all this, and the damage control was a fucking nightmare -- police and paperwork and Elyan working whatever the fuck magic he could work to get them out of the heat. Then the moving and the changing aliases-.. Setups were a living fucking hell.

_Got time for one more?_

Oh. Well that didn't reek of setup at all. By which she meant if it reeked any more of a setup then she might as well be holding the gun to her own damn head. Maybe she should just leave this one. But-.. she needed the money. They both did -- her pay was higher than usual lately from all the jobs that had come in from all the rich assholes but there was no guarantee there would be the same turnout when they moved on. If it was just revenge or vigilante justice or something she could kill whoever sets her up and just take their shit..? She'd done it before. But if they set her up with the  _police_ and this wasn't just a revenge story then that could get even fucking messier.

Thinking for just a moment, she tapped out a response just in case.  _am gonna need a time date name and loc. you pay upfront and am no cheap_

She made her way back to Ely's office as she made her exchanges with the stranger, tapping gently on the door and waiting. The tea and biscuits she left were gone, replaced by a little note with a hurriedly-scrawled _'Thank you. Not your fault'._ So that was a good sign. And if he was working there's no way he'd resist doing more investigating for her, even if it was off-topic. "Bro. Brotato. I need you t'do a thing f'r me," she slurred, realising with a little jolt that she'd probably had half of that vodka by now. Oops. She was about to hit him with more bro-based puns when the door opened just slightly and the brother in question poked his head out. His eyes were wild and tired, but they narrowed with concern as he glanced over her. 

"Are you drunk?"

"Aye, an' what?"

He looked like he was about to scold her, but apparently Lydia looked just as ready to return the scolding because he sighed not a second later, "What do you need?"

"Go' another job," she told him, waving her phone unceremoniously in his face. "Probably a setup. Can you do your magic and figure out if it's p'lice or no'?"

Elyan gingerly took the phone from her before she could hit him in the nose with it, eyes scanning over it for a moment with the kind of squint that told her he was having a lights-are-too-bright moment (further confirmed by the distinct amount of darkness in the office behind him). He swiped something on the screen with a tut, and the backlight dimmed to its lowest, and it was only then that she saw him actually reading it. Brow pinching in  _The Elyan Way_  again, he ran the phone between his palms and it vanished; only to reappear again as he pulled it from her jacket pocket. "It's the police. Most likely."

 _"Ha ha,"_ she muttered, snatching her phone back with a huff, "I mean your hacking shit. Find ou' if there's a call out f'r us or somethin'."

Rolling his eyes, he slunk back inside his office-shaped hole; leaving the door open for her this time. Walking inside with an almost tresspasser-like caution (or as much of that as she could muster when she was very nearly tripping over her own feet, she gingerly sat herself down on a chair opposite his desk, recognising with a pang of sympathy for his clients just how scary it was to be watching him scrutinise a screen she couldn't see; especially in the darkness with only the dim light of his laptop screen and what little light could get through his blackout curtains. For a big fucking softie Elyan could be  _intense.  
_ "Well," he muttered after a while, still frowning at the screen and typing frantically, "none of our aliases are flagging up and it doesn't look like they're particularly invested in treating this morning's case as a murder... Let me see that address again? Okay-.. no calls to that area or anywhere around it..." More frantic typing, then a tiny shake of the head, "Looks like we're clear on that account."

"Which means this is revenge, prob'ly." Lydia smirked widely at that. These assholes always thought they could get back at the person who killed their friend/family member/coworker they thought they hated but actually really kinda miss now. They hire a few bodyguards maybe, never once thinking that maybe if someone was skilled enough to kill and make it look like an accident, they'd need more than just a few hired goons to take her down.  
And that was another thing -- they never assumed she was a woman. They just found her number on their friend's phone or someshit and thought they could catch some bloke off-guard, and then when they saw she was a woman, well-.. _she_ took _them_ off-guard. And then they thought she'd be easy to deal with, only to end up with a bullet through their fucking skull.

"You're not going to take the bait." The soft-spoken sentence somehow managed to find the perfect point between a question, a plea, and a grim acceptance that she absolutely _was_ going to.

 "Two rich assholes in as many days?" Lydia hummed, with a chuckle reminiscent of a teenager about to prank somebody, "Too right I fuckin' am."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's longer than usual haha sorry about that???? hope y'all enjoy it either way -- i'm doing this for NaNoWriMo so hopefully I'll be updating more often for a while

Elyan didn't trust this. He'd be worried no matter the circumstance; and true, this wasn't the first time Lydia had knowingly walked into a trap. But something about this didn't feel right, even in the realms of an obvious setup, and that means he was coming with her. Ely knew his paranoia; he knew when he was being irrational, and no matter how much Lydia insisted that was the case or tried to reassure him, he couldn't leave her to do this alone. He had to be sure.

The location Lydia's contact decided on didn't settle his nerves in the slightest; in fact, it only served to skip them into overdrive. It was far too open; a small clearing amongst some warehouses in the middle of god-knows-where, and as they pulled up Elyan's gaze cast around the place with more than a little apprehension, eyeing all the spots they could easily be shot or ambushed from. It was quiet, certainly, but just open enough that even Lydia seemed on edge by now.

"This was as small as I could negotiate," she said, as if sensing he was far from happy about this, "Sorry Ely. I'll try to have this over with fast."

Her apology did little to settle him, and the huff Lydia gave as a man approached the clearing wasn't any better. "What's wrong?" he hummed, almost reluctant to ask.

“That’s not the contact,” she muttered, one hand on her gun as she made to leave the car. “Keep your guard up.”

Elyan's chest squeezed. They'd already known this was a trap, but something about this was wrong. So, so wrong and the sight of the man only made that squeezing, churning apprehension grow stronger by the second.

"I'm not here to hurt you." The man spoke before either of the siblings could, tired blue eyes casting over them both with regret-tinged urgency as he raised his hands at the sight of Lydia's gun. His accent matched theirs, and that-.. that didn't make this any less suspicious. "At least not yet. My name is Paul Jameson -- I need to talk to you both."

 _Jameson_. Why did that name sound so damn familiar? And for that matter, why would he even give them his name straight off the bat like that? It could be an alias, Ely supposed, but instinct told him it wasn't.

"Then talk." Lydia's grip tightened on her gun, frown deep as she eyed him.

“You need to stop.” There was a legitimate concern in his voice; a shaken sort of guilt, and for a moment Elyan wondered if the lines in his face and the greying of his hair was more than just the signs of age. “Both of you. You’re prying into things you can’t possibly fight or understand.”

The siblings stiffened, glancing at each other. There was no way he could know about their work and whether this man was talking about Josh or their general lives it was throwing Elyan completely on edge. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lydia snarled, paling just a little.

“Yes, you do.” There was something else in his voice; something Ely’s brain was working overtime to analyse despite the pounding in his chest. It was protective - almost fatherly, perhaps? “Just-.. _please_. I’m trying to save more than just your lives here. _Stop looking for Joshua Moore.”_

The moment their brother was mentioned Ely choked on a breath, glancing again at Lydia as she pulled her gun to train at Jameson’s head. “I suggest you tell me what you know and you tell me damn fast.” The venom that dripped from Lydia’s words was matched only by the look in her eye. If this man knew about Josh-.. Ely dreaded to think what they might have walked into here. Every inch of him was telling him to run despite the hopeful curiosity glinting in his eye.

“I can’t. I can’t tell you anything more than I have.” Paul sighed as three people appeared behind him, seemingly shimmering into place out of nowhere. Lydia didn’t seem to notice them, tunnel vision squared entirely on Paul, but Elyan’s throat closed. No-.. _this wasn’t right this couldn’t be happening._  As he watched, Paul stepped back, his expression calm but his voice shaking with urgency and… sadness? “Josh is dead. And you will be too, or worse, if you keep following this.”

_“You’re fucking lying!”_

“I’m sorry. I wish I was.” He sighed, little but sympathy in his gaze even as he lifted a hand in signal - and in a second he was nowhere to be seen.  
Before either of them could think to process any of this, the gun was torn from Lydia’s hand by one of Paul’s backup; pinning her to the ground. Elyan moved without thinking, pulling his own gun and swiftly delivering several bullets to the head of his sister’s assailant. She scrambled to her feet, scooping up her gun again and before he could check she was okay another of the thugs was coming at him - faster than he could process and slamming into him. The shove felt like a lead weight was crushing him, his breath stolen completely as he flew backwards to hit the ground with a heavy thud. Stars danced behind his eyes, his ears screeching as pain blossomed through his arm where he landed. This was wrong. Wrong and far too familiar, and as he watched his sister dispatch of his attacker he felt his head fall into a haze, lungs tight and burning. Three more thugs - no, _soldiers_. These looked like soldiers. Three more _soldiers_ appeared and rounded on him and he was powerless against them, frozen in place. Was this even real? Was Lydia seeing this how he was, right now? Maybe they hadn’t appeared out of nowhere - maybe that was why she hadn’t reacted. Maybe he was just seeing things again.

The thought didn’t make this any more comforting as a crash drew his gaze to Lydia again, who was now slumped on the floor beside the car - the car which now had a sizable dent where she’d apparently been thrown into it. It only took her a second to get back up despite the blood and glass in her shoulder, but Ely was stuck still, panic gripping him tight and refusing to let go despite his instincts screaming at him to get up. Lydia had managed to kill the one on her and was making a beeline for him, shooting as she went, and the gunshots were muffled; drowned out by the scream. _The scream? Whose scream?_ It sounded like his mother. How long was it going to take those soldiers to reach him? Everything was slow; _too slow._

Elyan blinked, and suddenly there was only one soldier. His face was sticky-.. _blood?_ The blood of the two soldiers fallen in front of him, he hoped. He blinked again, and there were _four_ soldiers now. A third blink, and two of them were shooting at Lydia. The whispering in his ears was so loud-.. with a frown, he realised one of the whispers was _himself_ , out loud, muttering quiet, feverish protests and denials at himself. A foot came down on his shoulder and there was _definitely_ a scream that time. His own. _Pain fear pain-.._ everything hurt and now Lydia was on her knees, her leg bleeding profusely as the soldiers rounded to restrain her, and then his vision started to darken. He wanted to help, he _needed_ to help, to get his sister out of there, but he couldn’t will his limbs to move; couldn’t force a thought beyond panic and hopelessness.

And then the soldiers above him were dead, collapsing to the floor with what looked like blue shards of glass in their backs - shards that dissipated the moment the soldiers hit the ground. The ones on Lydia were ripped away from her and then-.. No. No, no no-.. _Blades_ , thick like the blades of a kitchen knife grown to the size of swords, wielded by a young man - a stranger. But the blades weren’t right it wasn’t right-.. they were blue like the shards, glowing and translucent, apparently surrounding and coming from the man’s fists. He knew those blades. He watched as they pierced his sister’s assailants, carving through their bodies like nothing and tearing through the other side, completely impaling them before they were thrown aside to land limp, lifeless and pooling blood. Elyan vaguely registered someone kneeling over him, but her whispers only joined the others in his head as he whimpered, spluttering protests and trying to scramble away from whomever was touching him, laying their hand on his shoulder, _no no no-.._

 

***  


And then he was warm. Comfortable, laying somewhere softer than the concrete of the warehouse clearing. Things still ached but there was no searing pain, and it felt like his arm had been bandaged up. Hadn't he broken it? He was sure he had, but when he gave his hand an experimental wiggle there was little more pain than would come from bruising. And his shoulder wasn't dislocated like he'd thought it would be.  
Blinking awake, he cast his groggy gaze around wherever he'd ended up. His head was heavy and fuzzy; the kind of heavy-fuzzy feeling that usually followed a long, _long_ crying session. As his thoughts cleared a little he recognised the room -- they were back at the house. He was in the living room, curled up on one of the sofas with a blanket draped over him. Blinking, he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember what had happened. Lydia was-.. _Lydia_. Was she okay? They were taking her away, what-..?

His nerves were cut short as he saw her, laying sprawled out on the other sofa with little but a bandage and another blanket covering her torso. Her leg seemed fine, he noted with a frown. So he hadn't hallucinated what happened -- but perhaps some of it? Sighing, he decided not to question it just yet.

" _Finally_." An unfamiliar voice touched his ears, soft and relieved but still startling enough for Elyan to dart upright, only to immediately groan at the dull pain that shot through his arm. "O-oh! I'm s-so sorry, I just-.. I was starting to worry and I thought maybe you wouldn't wake up, I-I didn't mean to scare you!" The person speaking was a young woman, somewhere around Lydia's age and holding another Scottish lilt; softer than theirs by far. Bright hazel eyes cast over him with equal parts concern and apology as she pushed to her feet and stepped a little closer to him. Absently, somewhere amongst the suspicion, he noted that she was limping slightly. "Who-..?"

"O-oh! S-sorry, I'm Tori, I-.." Huffing softly at herself, she gently offered him a glass of water she'd picked up from the coffee table, "m-me and my brother, we pulled you out of that fight back there."

 _Tori_. Another familiar name. Eyeing the water she offered him, he shook his head to decline it. Water from a stranger -- God knows what she could be dosing him with. "You-.." Blinking away some more of the haze in his head, his eyes widened a little as he replayed what had just happened (had it just happened? It seemed to be dark outside... How long was he passed out for?) "You-.. N-no, you-.. You're one of them, you-.."

"Ssh, n-no, _no!_ I'm not, um-.. I already explained this to you, I'm-.. You don't remember, do you?"

"I remember your-.. Whatever it was. Magic, o-or-.." Magic. _Just like back then just like when Josh was taken._ His breath hitched again, threatening to send him back into panic, but he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, falling silent as he tried to process it all. "You-.. Killed your own."

"No! They're not my-.. I-I'm not with them, I p-promise-.." Tori huffed out a nervous sigh, brushing a stray lock of dyed-red hair from her eyes. "We-.. My brother and I, w-we were following the gunshots, I-.. W-we have scans going f-for unusual energy readings a-and we found you with those men, I-.."

"Your brother? Th-the man you were with," Elyan clarified, frowning as he thought back. "He-.. th-those swords, n-no, no you-.. You're one of them you're both with them you're g-going to take us like you took Josh-.."

"No! We're-.. We w-want to keep you safe from them, I-.. P-please, I'm s-so sorry, I-I don't want to scare you again, I just-.."

"Again?" If Elyan's brow could pinch any further his eyebrows would probably be touching his lips. There was something in Tori's voice that told him there was more to all this than he remembered, and it concerned him more than just a little.

"You don't-.. Oh gosh." Taking a little breath, she offered him another concerned frown, putting down the glass she'd been awkwardly holding out to him. "You-.. when we came across you, I-.. You were hurt, a-and I tried to help b-but you-.."

"Had a full-on fucking meltdown." Lydia's voice cut in, sounding as groggy as he felt. He glanced over to see her still curled up with one eye open, scrubbing at her face with a wince before pushing to sit up herself. "Screaming shit at all of us, like-.. Like we were gonna kill you or kidnap you or someshit, and then you just curled up and started muttering shit at yourself. You freaked out for like a whole fucking hour before you passed out on us."

 _Oh_. That hadn't happened in a long time. Especially not paired with the memory loss. Elyan shot his sister an apologetic glance, chewing the corner of his lip as his gaze lowered. That explained the heavy, still-anxious feeling in his chest and the fuzz in his head that made it impossible to think. "I'm sorry," he breathed, "Are-.. uh-.. Are you okay?"

"Aye, 'm fine." Lydia flashed a dry smile, shrugging and immediately regretting the movement as she winced again. "You didn't hurt anyone but yourself."

"My-..?" Ely lifted his arms, inspecting the skin on his hands and wrists. There wasn't any of the usual scratch marks or torn skin he usually had after panic attacks. "I don't-.. What happened, Lydia? I don't-.. I don't know how much of that was real."

"I don't blame you," she breathed, "it was a bunch of fucking bullshit. Th-they came out of fucking nowhere and shit-..they were so fucking fast, Ely-.. I-I know this is the shit you talk about but f-fuck, I don't fucking understand what the fuck this is."

So he wasn't dreaming it all up. This was really happening -- they'd really been found by the people who had taken their brother. It had been so long that Ely almost convinced himself it was a delusion -- that he'd made up a story to explain away the trauma. But no, there it was, plain as day. "I-.. Those people-.. They're the same people who took our brother. Do you know about that?" The question was thrown carefully at Tori, trying to figure all this out without just shoving the whole story out there.

"I-.. D-don't know who your brother is, but-.. I-I know they take people and I know w-why they do it."

Elyan nodded slowly, pushing to his feet despite how shaky and weak his legs still were. He noticed Tori frown and open her mouth as if to protest, but seemingly decide that wasn't wise right now and simply kept an eye on him as he tracked around the room, retrieving a laptop from down the side of Lydia's sofa before flopping back down to search through it. He knew everything he was looking up could probably be answered by Lydia and their new-.. acquaintance. But when Ely was confused he turned to hard facts and the only hard facts he trusted were the ones that didn’t change every time he asked or looked away for a second.

First things first: _Jameson_. Scottish, fatherly, Jameson-.. _Ah_. Of course he knew the name, he realised with a jolt. Paul Jameson: missing from his home in Perth around twenty-three years ago, his wife found dead and their thee year old daughter put into care. _Officially_ , it was a murder-suicide on Paul’s part, but… There was no evidence, no body other than his wife, and no records of investigation. He was reported missing, and the verdict came not a week later with nothing documented in-between. Tori paled as he relayed that information out loud, her hands shaking.

“Paul-? Y-you met him?” The spark of hope in her voice told him she knew the man - and that didn’t do anything to combat his certainty that she was one of them.

“Aye, he was the one who fucking summoned all that bullshit to start with,” Lydia chipped in, the tired, sad thoughtfulness in her lowered gaze a stark contrast to the aggression in her voice.

“ _He’s alive_..!” Tori toyed with the slightly bloodied sleeves of her denim jacket, working up the courage to say something before blurting, “Can I call my brother back? H-he’s close by I-I just-.. you didn’t like him. At all. Um.”

Her brother. The one with the blades. Running a hand over his face, Elyan ignored the persistent whispering and bickering urging him back and forth _let him in he’ll end your worthless- keep him out he’ll destroy everything-.._ And nodded shortly, “Just-.. n-no-.. no magic, or-.. or whatever those weapons are.”

“O-of course!” Tori matched his nod, fumbling around for her phone and tapping out a little message; which was followed within seconds by a ring on the doorbell. “D-don’t worry, that-.. that’s him,” she told Elyan quickly, hopping to her feet to let him in.

Elyan swallowed heavily as she came back with her brother, eyeing him cautiously for a moment. He was taller than her, but that didn’t say much considering she can’t have been more than five foot nothing. Still, he managed to hold a presence that was simultaneously dominating and barely there at all; piercing blue eyes casting over Ely and Lydia with the same suspicion they offered him.

“U-um, this is Erik,” Tori introduced with a sheepish smile, “I-I’m sorry for bringing people into your home and I-I promise we won’t be here long, b-but we -.. we need to know about this, a-and so do you, so-.. we j-just want to help.”

Tapping Erik’s arm so he’d look at her, she lifted her hands - talking to him in sign language even as she spoke out loud. “Th-they say they’ve seen Paul.”

Erik paled the same way Tori had, his gaze hardening even more if that were possible. As his sister moved to sit down, he chose to stay at the edge of the room, leaning back with his arms folded and his attention flicking between each of them in turn.

“Your brother’s deaf?” Lydia noted, her voice still hard and distant but still gently curious, “Neither of us can sign-..”

“A-and mute, aye,” Tori hummed, “He can-.. there’s ways he can speak b-but Elyan said no magic, so-.. B-but, um! H-he can lip-read! S-so you-.. j-just speak as clear as you can. Please? Sorry.” Gaze flicking to Erik for a moment as if listening to him, her cheeks darkened, “A-and he says not to talk about him l-like he’s not here. Um. S-so. Wh-what did Paul say to you?”

“He, uh-.. tried to warn us away, I think,” Ely tried, still searching through his files even as he spoke, “told us we were in over our heads with our-.. our, uh-..”

“Investigations. Our work,” Lydia finished for him, gaze still dull and staring directly at the floor. “He said-.. He said our brother is dead.”

“P-probably just to deter us,” Ely assured, sounding just as much like he were trying to reassure himself of that as he was Lydia.

“Y-your brother?” Tori and Erik exchanged a glance, “What was-.. what is his name?”

Elyan held the girl’s gaze for a moment, trying to determine whether he should tell her or not. “…Josh.”

Immediately, the room stilled. “I-.. o-oh gosh. I’m-.. s-so sorry,” Tori murmured, her gaze falling guiltily to her hands as she bit down on her lip. Even Erik seemed to shrink in on himself, lips pressed into a thin, grim line.

“You know him.” Elyan couldn’t say he hadn’t seen this coming. Josh had been missing for twenty years - long enough for anyone to give up hope.

“A-aye, we-.. knew him.” Tori sucked in a shaky little breath, looking like she’d much rather be anywhere but here, facing this. “If-.. if your Josh is the same as our Josh, h-he-.. he really is d-dead. I’m s-sorry.”

Another silence. Even Lydia had nothing to say, staring at nothing as if the silence itself might give her any idea of how to react to this. Elyan had already settled on grim acceptance, numb to the news despite everything. He couldn’t bring himself to be shocked by it, and maybe he should be, but after everything-.. there was little hope in his heart anymore that he was going to find his brother alive. Instead of addressing it, he returned to his laptop, searching for barely a moment longer before he stilled again. “You’re-.. you’re one of them,” he said, certainty in his voice this time. “N-no-.. o-oh _no, no, no_ -..” Too much, _too much._ The tremble in his body picked up again, breaths shallow as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Ely?” Distantly he heard Lydia push to her feet, felt the sofa shift as she sat beside him. “Ely, hey-..” her voice was soft despite everything, gently brushing her fingers through the hair by his ear, running gentle, calming caresses there even as he finally opened his eyes again. “What is it, Ely? What’s going on?”

“They-.. th-..” Still struggling to settle his thoughts, he pointed to the screen. Two files were up: one was Tori’s and the other Erik’s.

“Tori McCrae and Erik Endris,” she read slowly, scanning over the words there and muttering to herself as she did so. “Shit-.. the two that went missing from Perth.”

“I-in the same-.. the same-..”

“And it was all covered up the same way Josh was, aye-..” Barely any investigation or evidence. Just missing people cases gone cold or deaths written off as suicide or accidents - when there were already hundreds of those that went unreported, who would care to notice?

Ely’s hands flapped anxiously at his sides, eyes squeezing shut every other moment as he struggled to keep his gaze on the screen in front of him. There was too much-.. too much _everything_. If Jameson had found him, and now Erik and Tori in quick succession, who else could find him? Who else might already be here? Someone could be listening; watching. Lydia was still speaking and her voice was barely louder than everything else, but it was there, and he tried desperately to focus on that rather than the noise in his head, but even his own pounding heartbeat in his ears was too loud too loud.

“Shit, Ely, this-.. this could be good, aye? If they were with Josh all this time then maybe-.. we could figure out what happened to him? We finally get to know the truth-..”

Ely gave a tiny nod; but his clarity only lasted a moment. He could barely breathe; barely collect his thoughts - he wanted to confront them, to demand who sent them. They couldn’t be they _couldn’t be_. His fingers curled, hands lifting to brush his knuckles together; gently at first, then far harsher as he rocked softly, trying to catch a thought - any thought. He vaguely registered Lydia moving his laptop away before it could fall, her arm wrapping around him to pull him close.

“Gh-.. they-.. they-..” Elyan sucked in a shuddering breath, choking on a whimper as his hands resumed their flapping, “blades. Those weapons. Ask- ask… Could they- d-do that before?”

Tori, looking altogether frightened by the whole thing, shook her head, and it was Lydia who responded, “She says no.”

“No… nononono, _no_ …” _All for nothing, all for nothing. He became one of them he was one of them and now he’s dead. Just let them take you, let them take you. Let them destroy you; you failed. You failed._ Elyan’s eyes squeezed tightly shut again as he whispered the protest over and over, staying that way as his distress only grew. His hands came together again, but this time they were clawing; scratching feverishly at the skin, anything to make it stop. “Not him… not him…” Elyan’s murmurs were whimpered, forcing his eyes open again to try focus on Lydia's gentle hands curling around his wrists, pulling them apart and locking their fingers together with the swiftness and ease of someone who’d been doing this for years. “J-Josh… he wasn’t Josh-.. Gone before we got him, gone…” His gaze flickered around, breaths coming slower but still irregular and sharp, “A-are they coming? Th-they’re going t-to find us I have to-..” He paused to suck in another breath, looking like he wanted to move but too restless and shaken to do so. “I-I have to lock… Lock and protect-.. They’re coming, I have to-..”

“Nobody’s coming,” Lydia’s voice was shaking with the effort of staying calm, her brow firmly furrowed as she chewed her lip, “We’re safe, Ely. We’re all safe.”

“M-maybe it would help if-.. i-if you locked the doors anyway?” Tori’s voice came through his haze, still timid but gaining a new, experienced edge. There was a glint of recognition in her gaze; almost reminiscent as it swept over every twitch and tremble and sob as if mentally noting it all -- attentive and concerned.

Elyan sucked in a couple of short breaths, seeming to settle a little more by the moment - aided by the gentle, grounding touches he was receiving. Still, his breaths were more like frustrated groans and sobs, arms fighting periodically against the grip keeping them apart despite the pain that shot up his injured arm every time he did, and the barely-concealed chokes of pain Lydia gave in turn. His eyes locked on his sister again, wide as he nodded; pleading. Huffing out a breath, she seemed unconvinced, but matched his nod before staring down Tori with eyes that promised a whole world of shit if anything happened to her brother while she was doing this. “Keep his hands apart. He’ll fight you, but just-..”

“Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.” In perhaps the first sentence she’d spoken that was unbroken by a stutter, Tori offered a firm nod and slipped forward to take Lydia’s place. “I know.”

The moment Lydia was out of the room his distress rose to its peak again, struggling against the new, unfamiliar hands that held him and choking on a sob despite the gentle reassurances Tori was offering him. _You let her go. That’s what they want. That’s what they expect.  
_ She didn’t let go of him even as Lydia came back, waiting for Ely’s gaze to lock onto his sister in recognition before she even loosened her grip on his hands. “I locked up. We’re good,” she assured him, frowning as she eyed his struggling. It was different - looked less like he was fighting to hurt himself and more like he was fighting to get to her. Giving Tori a little nod, she watched as the girl tentatively let go of him, relaxing when he instantly reached to cling to Lydia’s hands instead, squeezing tight and resting his forehead against hers as he tried to sort through his thoughts some more. There were edges of clarity; lucid thoughts creeping in amongst the muddle, and he clung to those. Lydia was here. Lydia was safe. He knew that for a fact, because he was touching Lydia, and Lydia was still Lydia. The two who’d saved them were here to help. They’d proven that by saving them and bringing them home. That was a fact. And if they were who they said they were, there was hope this could be fixed. There was still hope.

 _God_ , he was tired. So tired. Everything was so much. So much to take in, so much to handle… The last… how long? How long had he been sitting here? Everything was blurry in his head. Muddled. He hated it. Gaze locking on to Tori, he took a steadying breath, fighting through the haze to force some kind of calm. “How? H-how-.. how are you, uh-.. how did you get-.. like this?”

“Ely, are you sure-?” Ely hushed his sister’s concerned protests, squeezing her hands again in reassurance despite the pounding still in his chest.

“We-.. that's-.. difficult to answer.” Tori glanced at Erik, unsure if she should answer the question, but sighed nonetheless at his little shake of the head; apparently making up her own mind despite it. “L-long story short, we… Me, Erik, Josh, and six others… we’ve been held in this f-facility, for uh-.. experiments. We’re like… supersoldiers, I suppose.”

 _Supersoldiers_. It was almost too ridiculous _not_ to be true, and after everything he’d seen-.. he couldn’t say he didn’t believe it. “Erik isn’t your real brother,” he murmured, both an observation and a question.

“N-no, we just-.. we spent our wh-whole lives together, s-so-..” She shrugged, “We’re l-like a family, y'know?”

“D-do you, uh-..” Elyan trailed off, the words lost somewhere in his throat as his brow pinched in frustration, breaths picking up again before he could steady himself. “Do-..”

“ _Ely_.” Lydia’s voice was firmer this time, letting go of one of his hands to brush his hair out of his face, “Enough. I’m gonna make tea, okay? We can talk about all this when you’ve calmed down.”

For a moment he thought about arguing with her, but-.. with a reluctant sigh, he nodded and let her guide him to his feet.

“You should both be resting,” Tori tried, the nerves back in full-force now things had calmed down but her gaze still concerned for them as she watched them move, “I-I could make the tea for you, if-..”

“He won’t take it,” Lydia told her, but beckoned her and Erik (who was still watching vigilantly at the edge of the room) to follow her “He needs to see me do it.”

“O-oh, of-.. of course, sorry, I-.. um.” Tori shut her mouth quickly, nodding timidly and following after them, her brother trailing behind


	6. Chapter 6

It had taken a while to convince Ely to go to bed, but after some persistence (and literally sitting by his bed holding his hand like a child) Lydia managed it. He’d wanted to stay awake and talk everything through then and there, but after a cup of tea and a sit down he was practically passing out on the spot. There was no way she was going to let him push himself any more than he had today.

Lydia, however, couldn’t sleep if she tried. For starters there were two strangers in the house and as much as she’d have liked to kick them out by now, hey knew about her brother and she wasn’t about to let them run off with that information and risk them never coming back. Besides that there was just too much on her mind to let her sleep. Josh is dead. Worse, he might have been turned into some crazy science magic bullshit before they killed him. Everything about this was fucked and after what she’d seen today? She was beginning to understand why Elyan was so scared all the damn time.

“Did you know him for long?” Tori’s soft lilt broke into her thoughts, the girl looking just as reminiscent and heartbroken as Lydia felt. Maybe less angry, though.

“Didn’t know him at all,” she confessed, shaking her head and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “I was a baby when they took him.”

“Do you-.. d-d’you know what happened?” The question was quiet, curious but hesitant as if she almost didn’t want to know.

“Why’re you asking me?” Lydia huffed, folding her arms defensively, “If Ely’s right then it happened to you too.”

“We-.. we don’t remember that far back,” Tori said, hands disappearing up into her sleeves as she shrunk into herself, “They t-took most of our memories o-of everything before we were like this. I remember more than Erik but-.. there was a time we d-didn’t even know our own surnames.”

So not only was Josh probably turned into a mindless Frankenstein’s soldier, he wouldn’t have even remembered them while he was alive. So even if they had found him, it’d be pointless. _Great_. Excellent news. Tori looked about to continue, but something cut her off before she could, her gaze flicking to look at Erik. Her brow pinched, and if Lydia hadn’t seen a whole bunch of crazy shit today she might have started to question her sanity. It seemed almost like the two were talking; having a silent conversation entirely in facial expressions, and after a few seconds of watching them her chest squeezed, frustration bubbling again.

“Hey!” She glared them both down as Tori turned to look at her again (followed shortly by Erik as he noticed the attention shift). “If you’ve got shit to say you can say it to me too. I don’t care what magic fucking fucked _bullshit_ you use – I’m not my brother. I can take it.”

The honorary siblings glanced at each other, looking unconvinced, but Erik shrugged. Not a moment later there was a soft whisper in her head; or was it more of a pull? It was almost like when she was trying to remember something that was just out of her reach, hovering at the back of her consciousness but not solid enough that she could get a grasp on what it was. Then another voice turned those whispers into background noise, somehow clear and sharp but distant and ethereal all at once. _‘Tell me if it’s too much.’_  
Despite the obvious distrust in his… voice? His lilt was soft and cautious; painted nails ruffling through his spiked mop of black hair in an almost nervous gesture.

“Holy shit, okay...” Lydia took a breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to process all of this. “Your voice is in my head. You can-.. telepathy is real.” Why that surprised her after everything she wasn’t sure, but it did. Crazy shit like weapon hands and miracle healing (her hand brushed her leg for a moment, still trying to figure that one out as well) were one thing but telepathy was so-.. mundanely supernatural that for some reason it took her more off-guard than anything else she’d seen. “O-okay, backpedal: _how the fuck?”_

“I-it’s complicated,” Tori sighed, “From what I’ve found, th-the experiments on us used h-hundreds of samples and prototypes drawn from the DNA of animals a-and all k-kinds of supernatural creatures, I-..”

“Okay, okay, too much science – save it for Ely,” Lydia interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “Let’s start with the practical shit, aye? How the fuck did you fix my leg earlier?” She remembered the gunshot vividly, the pain like fucking fire ripping up her leg, and then Tori had put her hands on it for a while and before she knew it there was only the pain in her back and shoulder; the tear in her jeans and the blood surrounding it being the only sign she’d even been hurt.

“Well,” Tori began slowly, frowning as she tried to figure out how to explain it, “I-I can-.. p-part of what I can do is-.. it’s not like traditional ideas of healing, I-.. I have to-.. move it? Th-the wound. Um. I j-just-.. I can fix some of it, but the rest-.. th-the rest I take on myself.”

Well that made no fucking sense. Brain working overtime to figure out what she’d said, Lydia thought back. Tori _had_ seemed… pained. And her limp-.. “Is that why you’re hobbling about? You-.. took my wound and slapped it on yourself like a fucking sticker, _shit_ -.. W-what about Ely’s arm?” she wondered, remembering what a fight he’d put up while she was trying to heal him.

“I-.” She looked sheepish again for a moment, obviously reluctant to answer that one, “I think-.. I think he thought he was hurt worse than he was. H-his shoulder was dislocated a-and he’d scraped up his arm p-pretty badly b-but nothing too major – no breaks or anything, um.”

“Aye, he’s done that before,” Lydia sighed grimly, “Still wonder if that scar he’s got really bothers him or if it’s all in his head or someshit.”

Tori nodded. The scar she’d seen marred his right shoulder, long and thick towards his chest, and it looked-.. frankly nasty. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find out it still bothered him despite it apparently being years old, but knowing of Elyan’s issues only made it less surprising.

 _‘You never told us what happened to Josh,’_ Erik chimed in, and fuck-.. she was almost glad for that initial confusing whisper or else Lydia might have jumped out of her fucking skin.

“You’d better not be reading my thoughts,” she warned, making sure she was thinking about the most disgusting, over the top stuff. Just in case.

Erik shook his head, rolling his eyes as if the comment were taking years from his life, _‘I can only communicate. No mind-reading.’_

“O-okay, well you-“

 _‘Just tell us what happened to our brother.’_ The expression Erik held was beyond impatient and Lydia’s fist closed at her side – _their_ brother? How fucking dare he-.. Something gave her pause before she could act on her fury; something she recognised as she actually seemed to _notice_ the man for the first time. The hostile look in his eye; the tight, stiff way he held himself, the way his arms remained firmly crossed at his chest – they were practically mirroring each other and Lydia found herself jumping straight from hostility to _sympathising_ with the guy. He can’t have been any more comfortable with all of this than she was; maybe for different reasons, but still-.. Gritting her teeth and forcing herself still, she moved quickly to put the kettle back on to boil. She was going to need plenty more tea if they were going to be talking about this. “I only know what Ely’s told me so fuck knows how much of it actually happened, but-.. Apparently these people just broke in out of nowhere and tried to take Josh. They fucking killed our mum and almost killed Ely before they got to our brother and dragged him away.

“That’s how he got the scar,” Tori assumed, earning a grim nod from Lydia. There had been days where he’d worked himself into a panic just from a twinge in his shoulder, and as she thought back over the day’s events she could understand why. The way Erik had ripped into those people-.. Lydia could deal with death – even the violent, bloody kind -- but that was a whole other fucking league of violent and bloody and it bugged her to no end that they didn’t seem to see how fucked up this all was.

“So-..” Sucking in a breath, she avoided looking at either of them as she poured herself another cup of tea, “You-.. have you been doing the whole-.. soldier thing since you were kidnapped, or is that recent?”

“That-.. depends which part you’re talking about. We’ve been trained s-since we were kidnapped but w-we’ve only been killing for half of that time, a-and our powers came over-..” Tori was cut off before she could finish, glancing at the warning glare Erik was giving her. “S-she deserves to know.”

“Deserves to know what?” Lydia turned to face them, then, shooting a questioning glance between the honorary siblings as she took a cautious sip of her tea.

“Everything. You’re Josh’s sister, you-”

 _‘Bullshit.’_ Cold eyes glanced between the girls, sharp and distrusting, _‘ **You** were his sister. Evie and Ivy and Angela and Violet were his sisters. These people might be Josh’s siblings by blood, aye, but what the fuck does that count for here? We don’t know them. Fuck- she never even met him! We don’t owe them shit.’_

“ _She_ is standing right here!” Tea spilled over the counter as Lydia slammed down her mug, scalding her hand but she barely seemed to notice as she rounded on Erik. “Maybe I didn’t know Josh but my whole damn life revolved around finding out what happened to him, so just fucking-“

 _‘You want to know what happened to Josh?’_ Erik scoffed, arms finally unfolding only to clench as fists by his side, and it took effort for Lydia to stand her ground – despite being shorter than her he somehow managed to dominate the whole room through attitude alone. _‘They cut him open. Turned him into something you’d never fucking recognise. Then, when me and Tori escaped from them, they sent our squad – our family – to come kill us. Josh got caught in the crossfire. I buried his fucking body. He’s dead. Your whole life revolved around him? There you go. Job done, purpose fulfilled. Why do you care anymore?’_

 _“I don’t know!”_ The force of Lydia’s yell was punctuated by a loud crash as she threw the mug of tea across the room; narrowly missing Erik’s head and smashing into the wall behind him to scatter porcelain shards and hot tea across the room. “Why do _you?_ If being here and talking to us is such a fucking nightmare to you then why the fuck are you even here? You know everything we do and a fucking whole lot more – if we’re so damn useless to you then why even save us in the first place? You know where the fucking door is, just-”

“Forty-three.” Before she could continue Elyan’s voice floated from the doorway; firm and tired but holding a practiced softness as he eyed the mess in the room. Lydia immediately fell still, the words cutting into the rage-fuelled haze in her mind just enough to think to breathe. She stood still, hands still clenched by her sides as she slowly counted down under her breath – from forty-three.

“I think you should go.” The words were thrown dryly at Erik and Tori as he strode across the room, pulling Lydia into his arms and just holding her while she counted away her rage.

“Wh- n-no, I-!” Tori, despite the way she had cowered from Lydia’s outburst, seemed heartbroken; glancing at her brother with wide, tear-filled eyes swimming with guilt, as if begging him to say something.

“You can come back, if you like. Just-.. not now. W-we need time,” Ely assured, pointedly directing his soft words at Tori rather than Erik; who huffed, tugging his sister away without another gesture.

As soon as they were gone and her counting was over Lydia’s anger melted to heavy, wailing sobs; arms pulled to tuck between her chest and Elyan’s as he swamped her as much as he could without hurting her. Her back hurt and her shoulder hurt and her hand stung from the burning tea, and the trembling in her body didn’t make it any better. “Th-this is so fucked, Ely, i-it’s so fucked-..”

“I know,” he breathed, resting a gentle kiss to the top of her head as his own breaths shook with the weight of her emotions and his own, “It’ll be okay, Lydia. We-.. we’ll figure this out, okay?”

“What’s the point?” she sniffled through sobs, closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest so her words were muffled and quiet – something Ely almost appreciated. The crash had been so loud amongst the silence of his bedroom, her screams ripping through his already-pounding head, and it was nice to have something sound at a normal level right now. “J-Josh is dead. We fucked up, Ely. E-everything we worked for, all the fucking bullshit I p-put you through to get here and it was a-all for f-fucking nothing!”

“We have to be hopeful,” he persisted; scarcely able to believe the words were coming from his own mouth when he’d been the one certain Josh was dead in the first place. “There’s no proof yet that-“

“Proof?!” Lydia pushed against him, not moving back enough to break from his hold but enough to glare up at him, face distorted with guilt and rage and disbelief once more, “That’s all that fucking matters to you, isn’t it? F-fucking facts and numbers and clinical cold fucking bullshit but when do you _do_ anything? We could have covered more ground, w-we could have found him, w-we-!”

“Eighteen.” Sighing as she started to count again, his voice was a little more guilty as he pulled her close once more despite choosing not to acknowledge her accusations. They cut at his chest and sunk deep, but what was the use in getting defensive right now? Lydia needed him to be calm. “Even if he really is-.. Even if they’re right, we deserve the truth. All of those families – some of the stories made up to keep this quiet are disgusting. They deserve the truth. Don’t you think he’d want that?”

“I don’t know what he’d want,” she murmured, “I never knew him. Now I never will.”

He didn’t know what he could possibly say to that. Ely’s chest physically hurt for her, feeling not for the first time how unfair it was of him to take so much of her energy and effort in looking after him when he, at best, had the privilege of not only knowing Josh but in knowing from the get-go what had taken him from them in the first place. Lydia hadn’t known until she was almost an adult, thanks to their father’s (frankly cowardly) decision to tell her both Josh and their mother were killed in a car crash – but then to find out he was alive and kidnapped-.. he couldn’t imagine being given that kind of hope only to have it torn away again so suddenly.

So he didn’t respond. Instead, he hushed her gently, keeping her close and stroking gentle fingers through her hair as he just let her cry it out for a while. Her eyes were tired and downturned when she eventually pulled back again, her eyes made nearly amber by the bloodshot red around them. Brushing a tear-dampened strand of hair from her face, she sighed as Elyan caught her hand, holding it gently as he eyed the blisters there. “Come on,” he hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “we’ll get you patched up, and then we can both go to bed. We’ll clean the kitchen tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

The night was long and restless, but not nearly as much as the next week was. They had to leave and they knew it, but how? How could they justify running away when Elyan had a duty to fulfil? Maybe their own personal investigation had run into a dead end (literally), but Jani was still out there and Elyan couldn’t let her die too – or worse.

So he stalled, finding every excuse possible not to leave. They couldn’t find anywhere to go, there were no flights to anywhere they hadn’t been, anything he could think up, he’d use. Lydia suggested going home – back to Scotland; somewhere they knew, away from all this. But if the people who’d stolen Josh knew they were here, they’d know where they came from. They had to go somewhere they’d never been. Perhaps if they stayed in America they could keep contact with Miss Grant while staying out of the picture?

It was during one of these conversations of the hypothetical when Tori appeared.

Literally appeared. In the living room. For a moment Elyan almost ignored her, but when Lydia jumped half out of her skin, spouting a rather imaginative string of insults, he came to the conclusion that this most likely wasn’t a stress-induced hallucination. “There’s such thing as a door, you know,” he muttered dryly, if only to offset the shaking that picked up in his hands.

“S-sorry! I just-.. I d-didn’t want to risk Erik seeing me, um.” Tori’s cheeks darkened, gaze actively avoiding both of them as Lydia composed herself quietly, scowling.

“You can fucking teleport too?” she demanded, reaching for the tea that she’d thankfully put down before any of this happened.

“K-kind of, um-.. W-we call it ‘Blinking’?” The term lifted her voice to almost a question, clearly questioning her own use of the term now she was saying it out loud, “I-It’s difficult, b-but a lot easier if I know where I’m going, a-and what it looks like. Otherwise it can get d-dangerous, so-.. um.”

“You’re lucky we’re still here,” Elyan said, eyeing her quietly. “…why don’t you want Erik knowing you’re seeing us?”

“He-.. um.” Tori chewed at her lip for a moment, looking very much like she shouldn’t have even spoken. “You might’ve scared him away just a tad? He thinks-.. H-he thinks we should be keeping to ourselves.”

“Maybe you should be,” Lydia muttered, but Ely hushed her gently; concerned.

“Tell him you’re both welcome here,” he assured, sounding about as unconvinced by his own words as Tori and Lydia both looked but meaning them nonetheless. “You saved our lives; it’s the least we can do.”

“Th-thank you,” Tori managed, though there was an uncertain waver to her voice (more so than usual, that is) and darting eyes told him perhaps there was more to this than she let on. Still, he didn’t press for answers as much as instinct told him to, and when she continued it was clear she wasn’t going to return to that subject. “I-I’m actually here because-..” Biting her lip again, she sighed, pulling to her front the laptop bag that hung over her shoulder and all but hugging it to her chest. “I-I know you just found out a-about Josh and I know this is a lot to ask b-but there-.. there’s been more attacks and people going missing in this area and I m-might have been maybe looking into you and I know you deal with that kind of thing and I th-thought you might be interested in helping me? Maybe? Sorry, um.”

Elyan blinked, having to take a moment to register the hurried babble that had only gotten faster with every word. Fortunately (or not) he didn’t have to formulate any kind of response, as not a second later Lydia was laughing incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You just told us our brother – the one we started all this bullshit to find – is dead, and now you expect us to do your fucking dirty work?”

“Lydia.” The warning was hushed and understanding, but a warning nonetheless as he fixed Tori with a thoughtful gaze, “We might be able to help you there, aye,” he hummed, pushing to his feet and beckoning her to his office despite Lydia’s silent, glared protests.

“We’ve had a case recently,” he explained, slipping behind his desk and gesturing her to sit; clearing a spot for her to put her own laptop, “and I’m hoping you’ll see what I’m seeing or else I’ve really lost my mind.”

Tori nodded, scooting around to watch his screen as he flicked through everything he'd found on Jani -- the files on her disappearance, the photographs of the evidence and the results of the tests (the phone case and blood were both definitely hers, and any other DNA or fingerprints had no match; something that bugged Elyan to no end). The frown that ghosted her brow only grew deeper as she watched the gas station security footage, and as he flicked through the photographs she lifted a hand to gently stop him at the picture of the scorch marks. "D-do you know what those are?"

He shook his head, "I-I just know the same marks were there when-.. w-when they took Josh."

"Th-those are-.. those marks are l-left when someone uses the Controller's teleport. H-his powers are-.. f-far more powerful than mine, so he-.. things tend to leave a mark."

"Controller?"

"H-he's-.. the one in charge of all this. N-nobody knows what he is, but h-he's powerful. He's the one who orders the kidnappings, a-and directs the experiments and trains us." Voice trembling as if the mere mention of him was frightening her, she moved to bring up something on her own screen, swivelling it around to show him. The photographs were taken from security footage, barely in-focus, but the man in each of them was unmistakable and Elyan couldn't help the startled little breath that slipped from his throat. Silver hair swept back almost carelessly; a few loose strands framing a long, rounded face, somehow expressionless and smug at the same time. Eyes so blue they could almost match his hair stared coldly at whatever was off-screen, and Elyan put him at late thirties, early forties -- in twenty years the guy hadn't aged a damn day.

"He was there, wasn't he?" It wasn't a guess. Tori's voice was quiet and sympathetic, a grim knowingness in soft hazel as she watched him closely.

"Aye, h-he-.. When they attacked our family, they kicked the doors from their hinges and surrounded us before we could even-.. b-before we could react. Th-they threw our dad aside, and then… Then y-your Controller was there. They stopped attacking when he came in, and he… he asked us to give our brother to him. L-like we were doing him a favour. Our mother tried to protect us; she was inches from hitting him and he-.. He just flicked his wrist and she was against the wall, crying out like-.. Like she was being tortured; a-and then…" He trailed off, swallowing heavily.

"Y-you don't have to tell me," Tori assured carefully, looking almost guilty for even speaking, "I-I know it's-.. y-you b-barely even know me, s-so you don't-.. um."

Elyan shook his head, his expression blank and distant. The words had spilled from his mouth as if he'd been waiting his whole life just to find someone who would listen, and when he continued his voice was as distant as his gaze. "And then she was dead. Just like that."

Tori couldn't help herself. Sliding the laptop so it was out of his sight, she reached to grasp his hand, clinging to him as he gritted his teeth against the memory. "And then he turned to me, warned me to move like mum was more of a threat than a punishment. And when I didn’t, he-..” Another deep breath, less steady this time. “His hand glowed, a-and the light grew into something like a weapon; a sword made of blue light around his fist, and he swatted me aside with it. I remember it cutting through me l-like…” He shook his head, falling silent again for a long moment. "When-.. when I came home from hospital it was like it never even happened. Th-they called it a car crash and left it there." For a while he'd even convinced himself that might be true; that the whole attack was fabricated by his mind somehow to deal with the loss and give him some kind of false hope that some part of it could be fixed. But now-.. seeing it all play out exactly how he remembered, finally having proof that what he saw was real-.. he wondered if maybe convincing himself it was a delusion was the real false hope.  
Tori gently squeezed his hand, gaze concerned and deeply sympathetic, and guilt squeezed at his chest. She didn't need to be hearing all this -- she knew what he did. She'd lived with it her whole life as far as he could tell; if anything, she knew far better than him what this Controller was capable of. With one last, stilling breath, he slipped his hand from her grasp and returned to his laptop, bringing up a series of files. "We weren't the only ones who got a cover-up like that," he continued, flicking through each file as he spoke. "There were eight other families on the same day who lost children at similar ages. All 'accidents' with no real evidence."

Tori's breath stilled as she skimmed over each heavily redacted file, paling a little more by the second. Ivy and Violet, Evie and Angela, Ryan, Edward-.. These were all the people she'd grown up with, all subject to the same fate; the same experiments and brainwashing.

"You know them?" It was Ely's turn to be gentle, watching her with the same cautious interest he usually reserved for clients. Tori nodded slightly, not responding properly as she kept reading through every excuse and lie in front of her. Josh's file was next, then two more -- Erik and Tori's. Erik was another declared dead: supposedly fallen from an upstairs window, but Tori-.. she was still missing, one of only two of them who were so.

"Wh-what about our families?" she whimpered, eyes sparkling with tears as she turned her pleading gaze to him, "Wh-why did they l-let this happen?"

"They were scared," he sighed, "Too scared to face the truth. And if they weren't, they died."

"Th-then why am I still missing?"

Elyan offered a sad smile, "Your parents put up a fight. Maybe they couldn't get the full story out there, but-.. they made sure you were looked for. I-.. don't know what happened to them. Your mum, she-.. I can't find anything on her, not even a name. It's like she never existed. But-.." He hesitated, wondering if he should even be telling her this when she already had so much to take in. But as he searched her gaze he found the same desperate need for answers he always saw in his clients; the tired, helpless pleading he'd never been able to turn away. She'd said they didn't remember their past -- how long had she been looking for truth, hoping for some kind of clue about where she came from? He had the means to put some of that to rest right now and he wasn't going to skirt around it now. "I-.. met your dad."

There was the shock, cycling through disbelief and confusion and cautious hope. "Y-you did? Wh-.. when; how?"

"I-.. only briefly, he-.. c-came to speak with me, when I was just about to start at University. He uh-.. he was looking for you."

"He was a policeman," Tori breathed, mind working to try and piece this all together before he'd even said it.

"You remember that?"

"K-kind of." Her brow furrowed, almost pained as she tried to sift through what little she could remember, "There b-bits and pieces, I-.. i-it probably helps that he-.. I met him too. He came for me, I-.."

She fell silent, and though her comment burned a dozen new questions into his mind there was a darkness to her silence and the tears in her eyes that told him perhaps now wasn't the time to be asking them. "He was a good man," he tried instead, "There are stories passed around the force about him, and-.. a lot of his work ended up the basis for mine." It was far from complete, and he had a hunch the majority of the redacting (especially on Tori's file) was done after his disappearance, but it was something to go on that he hadn't had before -- some anchor to knowing that his past was no delusion.  
There was another long silence, filled only with their soft breathing and Tori's absent fumbling with her sleeves, before she drew in a deep breath; scrubbing away the few tears that had escaped to dampen her cheeks before retrieving a USB stick from her bag. "Give me everything you have on Jani," she said, "I'll give you the details of the others."


	8. Chapter 8

This was bullshit. It was all bullshit and Lydia couldn't believe her fucking eyes when her brother walked off with Tori. Hadn't he been the one to lecture her all the time on being fucking careful? Whatever. She needed the space anyway -- if she was safe he could have someone else babysit him for once and if not then it'd be a lesson fucking learned. What. The fuck. Ever. Scribbling out a half-hearted "gone out b bck eventually" note, she quietly slipped out of the house, seeking out whatever bar she could find to drink herself fucking stupid.  
So now here she was, drinking alone in a half-empty bar because what the fuck else was she going to do right now?

 _Josh is dead Josh is dead Josh is dead._ The words span through her head like they were taunting her and it was only the bitter-sharp taste of the vodka she was drinking that washed them away for even a second. Maybe she should have expected it. Maybe she should have expected all of this -- maybe she shouldn't have even tried in the first place. But something deep in her gut had told her maybe he was still alive, maybe there was still a chance she could fix whatever was left of their stupid, broken little family.

 _'Of all the damn people I'd bump into here, it had to be you.'_  
  
Lydia near-enough fell from her barstool as the familiar, unwelcome voice echoes in her mind. The music playing overhead and the few conversations around had combined with her distracted thinking to mean she'd completely ignored the warning whisper of Erik's telepathy, and the man was smirking as she span around to glare at him.

 _'Relax,'_ he huffed, _'I'm not following you. I was here on business and you happened to walk in.'_

"Why would I think you're following me?" she huffed, "Last I checked you'd rather choke on shite than talk to me."

 _'I never said that,'_ he sighed, moving to sit on the stool beside her, _'I just don't like sharing personal information with strangers.'_

"Right, that why you won't let Tori out on her own?" Lydia took a long swig of her drink, scoffing at the incredulous look in his eye, "Don't think she should be giving out sensitive information so you gotta keep an eye on her, aye?"

 _'Partially.'_ Erik shrugged, apparently completely comfortable with that fact, _'But there's more to it than that. How do you know what I want for my sister, anyway?'_

It was Lydia's turn to shrug and huff, shaking her head. There was no way she was letting him know where Tori was. She may not trust the girl but she trusted this arsehole a damn sight less. "I know what it looks like when someone's too scared to let his own sister out."

 _'You think I'm scared?'_ He grinned at that, quiet laughter shaking his chest.

"I know you are." Lydia's voice was deadpan, glancing at him with an unamused dryness before turning to down the rest of her drink. He watched her for a while, expression twitching as if he couldn't decide whether to argue or just drop it.

 _'What's your poison?'_ He wondered eventually, huffing softly in defeat.

Lydia's brow shot up, eyeing him with disbelief for a moment before giving a dry laugh, "Anything, usually. I’m on vodka coke today, though. Double.”

Erik winced at the choice, something between sympathy and disappointment, but decided not to question it. He’d been known to drink some shit just to get drunk, why judge someone else for it? Pulling a small notepad and pen from his back pocket, he scribbled down their choices and tore the page away to hand to the barmaid, trying to ignore the way Lydia’s gaze watched him with shameless interest. And failing. _‘Never seen a mute boy order a drink before?’_

Dark hazel quickly darted away to look down at her drink, cheeks darkening as she tried to brush it off, “You just-.. don’t think about how easy it is to just do shit like that. Or I didn’t. Sorry.”

Rolling his eyes, Erik chose not to pursue it, shooting the tender a wink and a smile as she came back with their drinks. _‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what I said the other day,’_ he said eventually, absently brushing away a loose fleck of glitter on one of his fingernails. _‘I was an arse.’_

“Aye, you were,” she huffed, not bothering to offer any forgiveness or care to the situation. She’d not seen any real evidence yet that he was worth her time.

_'How’s your shoulder?’_

She shrugged - only to immediately wince at the cramp and sting the sharp movement sent through her shoulder and down her arm. Ignoring the knowing smirk playing Erik’s lips, she huffed, downing a decent amount of her drink in one with a grimace, “Fine.”

_‘As fine as you are emotionally, aye?’_

“Yup.” And very much wanting to be left alone. “Why d’you give a shit?”

 _‘I might be an arse but nobody deserves to be drinking double vodka on their own in the middle of the day,’_ he chuckled, but there was a serious concern there that even Lydia could pick up on. Well that was a damn sight different to the stiff-lipped prick he’d been last time they spoke. Eyeing him for a moment longer, she offered up a smirk of her own.

“Tori kick your arse hard enough to knock that stick out of it, then?”

 _‘Ah, I’m not sure,’_ Erik clicked his tongue, tilting his head in mock-thoughtfulness, _‘Think I’ve still got splinters.’_ That drew a laugh from her, and his grin was triumphant as he took a sip from his own glass (a sweet-scented cocktail, of course. If he was going to get fucked he’d get fucked with taste). _'Really though. How are you doing?'_

"Everything hurts and if you keep asking me how I am I’m going to scream," she hummed, flashing him a near-enough murderous grin. Finally seeming to take the hint, Erik gave a short nod; finger tracing absently around the rim of his glass.

 _‘What do you do, Lydia?’_ He wondered, _‘Why were you meeting with Paul in the first place?’_

“I’m a mercenary,” she told him. Why the fuck not? It’s not like she could be any more fucked than she already was - or maybe that was the alcohol talking. How many had she had now? Enough to get sloppy with her security, she supposed. Not that it mattered now anyway. “Prefer the term gun-for-hire though. Sounds more sophisticated~”

 _‘Or limited,’_ he chuckled, _‘People might think those guns are all you’re working with.’_

“I just like the term,” Lydia hummed, keeping thoughtful gaze on her new drink, I’m also an arms dealer, so y’know…” she chuckled dryly, “I make my parents proud at every turn~”

_‘Where do your contracts come from?’_

“Why d’you want to know?” Apparently there was still some sense of security in her alcohol-stunted brain.

_‘Curiosity. Mostly. It’s probably also worth figuring out if your boss is dead, considering my ex-boss hijacked your last hit.’_

“Hm.” Lydia hadn’t considered that. She doubted her boss would be taken down that easily, or even if the initial text was sent by them - in fact, perhaps her boss wasn’t even one person but a network. But it was worth considering, she supposed. “I don’t actually know who my boss is or even if it is any one guy. But I know the majority of my contracts seem to come from the same place.”

'Because that's not suspicious at all...' Despite the heavy sarcasm in his tone, Erik looked genuinely concerned for her, hand pausing its absent movement as he frowned at her.

"Aye, suspicious is an understatement," she agreed dryly, downing another mouthful of bitter-sharp alcohol, "But there's mouths to feed so I can't be picky."

 _'There's mouths to feed so you take orders from someone you don't even know the name of to kill people you don't know the story of.'_ There was thick scepticism in his words but he needn't have tried to convey that, as one perfectly-plucked eyebrow was raised so far it could easily have disappeared into his heavily-straightened, carefully-positioned mop of a fringe. _'Take it from someone who's had to do that by force: there are other ways.'_

"Maybe for someone like you." Erik didn't bother responding to that, merely lifting his brow just a little further in question. "Well look at you! All that bullshit you probably went through and you still have half your shit together-- and hobbies. You've got hobbies."

 _'Okay, first things first let's get this straight: I absolutely do not have my shit together,'_ he laughed, _'And secondly, I'm sure you have hobbies too.'_

"Oh aye, punching things, drinking, sleeping... all great hobbies to make money with."

_'There's more to you than that, I'm sure. What about the photography?'_

Lydia looked at him then, frowning deeply, "How d'you know about that?"

 _'I saw the camera bag at your house, and-.. no offense, but your brother doesn't seem the type to go out and about doing that stuff.'_ When she didn't respond, his gaze softened a little, _'Okay, so that's private. But you really don't have anything? Not even something small? I only do my nails and makeup because it calms me down, you know.'_

"And the hair?"

Erik smirked, _'Aesthetic choice. I get ringlets if I don't deal with it.'_

"Ringlets." Lydia's laugh was more genuine this time, trying to picture him with that already wild hair all curly and out of control, "That's adorable."

 _'Which is exactly why I straighten them,'_ he hummed, taking another sip of his drink, _'Is fighting really all you enjoy?'_

"Aye, pretty much. Not even sure I like that anymore either. But hey, give me some credit -- I said sleeping and drinking too~"

Erik decided to ignore her attempts at skirting around the point, frowning instead at how put out she sounded at the whole concept. Her whole life was built around fighting and killing and she didn't even seem to want to be doing it. _'How did you even get into all this? Doesn't seem like the average person's first choice in career.'_

"Aye, well the average person doesn't have their family ripped apart by super-freaks."

_'Touché. Question still stands, though.'_

“Someone approached me by chance,” she conceded, shrugging despite knowing full well she wasn’t helping with the ‘suspicious’ thing. “Always did shit at school - even worse when I found out what happened to Josh, so-.. I just didn’t know what to do with myself when I was supposed to start being an adult. Then one day this shady fuck shows up and gives me what I think’s gonna be the chance of my damn life.”

 _‘So you took it.’_ He couldn’t say it was clever, but it definitely made sense. Who else would decide to sign up doing that kind of thing but a directionless young adult; mouldable and desperate? Even the army wanted people like that - he’d heard their ads on the radio (and quickly turned them off, most of the time). _‘How old were you?’_

“Dunno, eighteen-ish maybe? Somewhere around five years ago anyway. Feels like fucking forever.”

 _‘Chance of your life, huh?’_ Erik shook his head, breathing a laugh over his glass, _‘I’m really seeing it.’_

"It just-.. felt right, at the time. Should know better than trusting my gut, but there y'go." When every decision she made or feeling she had was completely wrong-.. Well. She knew better now. Josh being alive was her biggest gut feeling and even that was wrong. "It's funny, I-.. kinda

 _'That was your first time seeing shit like this, wasn't it?'_ When she nodded quietly Erik's smile turned knowing and sympathetic, _'There's a look people get the first time, like they're never gonna sleep again. Your brother-.. Even before you told me I know he'd seen shit. For a second he looked like someone had handed him a guide book to his own life.'_

"Why is this important?"

 _'You can always stop.'_ The tone of his voice was soft and genuine, like he was seriously offering advice. He didn't think she couldn't handle this and he wanted her to know that -- but at the same time he wouldn't blame her if she couldn't. _'Start over. There's more to you than fighting and drinking and maybe you need to step back to see that.'_

"Oh aye, and how d'you expect I'll 'start over' when we're in this up to our fucking eyeballs? I don't think this Controller bloke is gonna be happy we got out of his trap -- he'll just send more after us before long. That's how people like that work."

_'I'm good at disappearing. Me and Tori could find you somewhere to go, give you a new identity, no records -- even a new job if you want one. You could start over before it's too late.'_

There was something in his eye that Lydia didn't trust. The smile playing his lips and his genuine tone didn't disguise the way his gaze bored into her; almost scrutinising her reaction. That alone should have been enough to put her off of the entire idea.  
Instead she found herself humouring the idea. It'd be an easy way out, aye? Josh was dead; she didn't care about anything else. Elyan was the one always obsessed with the truth and finding all the other kids and saving people -- Lydia just wanted her brother back; some kind of stability. Maybe she could even go home to dad's..? If Erik and Tori could wiper her from any records she could go back and live with him like none of this ever happened--

Except it wouldn't be like that, would it? Ely wouldn't be there. There was no way he'd come with her, not now he was so close to knowing everything. She could leave him to ir-.. She knew he wouldn't stop her leaving if she really wanted to. He seemed to think all of this bullshit and danger and pain was worth it, and she just-.. She didn't know. She'd been the one to start all this; Elyan just went along with her halfbaked plans because he cared about her. He'd been trying to recover and Lydia shoved him right back into everything that fucked him up in the first place. And now she wanted to back out of the mess she'd created.

"No," she sighed eventually, finishing off her drink with a grimage, "I-I can't leave Ely to deal with this on his own. This is all fucking bullshit and I didn't sign up f-for tearing people in half and fucking magic supersoldiers and I don't know if I can fucking stomach it all, but-.. I dunno. I just can't abandon him to this. I can still be useful where I am."

Was that what this was about? Being useful? Erik's frown grew a little deeper for a moment, _'Is this about keeping your brother safe or just impressing him?'_

Lydia eyed him directly for a long moment, increasingly drunken gaze hiding nothing as they searched curious blue, "Both."

That seemed to amuse him, his lips pulling into a boyish grin-- no. It wasn't just amusement. The grin was just short of impressed; satisfied, maybe? Was that question a fucking test or someshit? Trying to see if she was as much of a nancy as she seemed, huh? Glaring, she was a second away from snapping at him when the warning whisper came again to interrupt her, _'Maybe you just need a break. Even just for a night or two.'_

"What I need," she huffed, waving the barmaid over again, "is three more drinks, and to get laid."

Erik's smile only grew wider then, gaining a cheeky edge as she ordered them both another round. _'...I can help with that~'_

Was he serious? “You try the ‘act like an arse and interrogate her until she wants me’ routine on all the girls?” Lydia scoffed, eyeing him with a less than convincing glare.

 _'Who says it’s just the girls I try it on?’_ he countered, grin only growing wider as she rolled her eyes and took another long mouthful of her drink. _‘Why - is it working?’_

He was serious. Lydia’s brow shot up, giving a soft, disbelieving laugh, “So d’you whore yourself out to anything that moves, or am I special?”

 _‘You’re special,’_ he hummed, taking a sip of his drink if only to hide the smug, cheeky smirk on his lips, _‘Usually I charge.’_

It was a joke, but ‘spoken’ so deadpan and matter of fact that she wondered if there was perhaps some truth to that. _Hobbies_. Right. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he didn’t seem like he was going to chase the subject any further, but after a long, contemplative silence and downing about half of her glass, she flashed him a smirk of her own. “Buy me another drink first.”

With another boyish grin, he did just that.


	9. Chapter 9

_Oh boy. Headache._ And shoulder ache - she’d definitely made her shoulder worse. Lydia didn’t bother opening her eyes as she woke up, snuggling down further into the unfamiliar (but oh, so cozy) bed she’d found herself in. Was it early? It felt early, but sunlight was streaming in through a window and smacking her right in the face; she could see it still trying to blind her through her eyelids. So she turned over with a groan, pulling the blankets over her head and ignoring the dull ache her back gave in protest of the movement. It felt like something was sitting on her lungs, her stomach churning and gurgling to itself as she tried to get back to sleep. How much did she even drink? Did she even care? Not particularly.

 _‘And here **I** thought I was a heavy sleeper~’_ Great. He stayed. Why did men always get clingy?

“I don’t need your voice in my migraine right now, ta,” she groaned, opening her eyes to peer groggily at him. He looked fucking great - better than great, fully dressed and fucking glowing, like last night was just a workout and a healthy snack for him. Worse even than that, he was holding coffee, which he immediately brought over to her with a smirk. “You’d better not be buttering me up to ask me on a date or-.. fucking murder me or something.” When he gave her a look that said ‘it’s coffee. Chill out’, she huffed, “I don’t know with you supersoldier-y types. Could be doing anything, how would I know?”

Rolling his eyes with a silent chuckle, he pulled out his notebook, scribbling quickly, _‘Nice to see you’re your normal, cheery self.’_

Lydia eyed the words with a sigh, pushing herself to sit upright and sip at the hot drink with a guilty frown - it was much needed and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t appreciated. “Sorry. I do-.. I appreciate it.” He was right - she’d needed a break, just to cut loose for a night and ignore everything else, and as much as she’d wanted to punch him through most of it, the conversation they’d had was nice. “…Where are my clothes?” Erik pointed to the foot of the bed, where her clothes were neatly folded for her. Okay, that was weird. “D’you do this for everyone you drag home?”

_‘Pretty much. Also this is a hotel, not home.’_

“Figure of speech; I knew that,” she huffed, sliding the notepad back to him and contemplating her coffee for a moment longer before scooting carefully to grab her phone from her jeans. Fifteen missed calls-shit. All from Ely. He always stopped at fifteen; if only to start searching the neighborhood’s security footage. The likelihood was he already knew where she’d been - meaning she was getting the worst fucking lecture when she got home. “Ely is gonna fucking kill me, shit.” She didn’t want to freak him out all the time, but fuck-.. it was so damn easy to do and she wasn’t about to stifle herself to please him.

 _‘It’s my fault,’_ Erik wrote with a guilty little frown, _‘I should’ve brought you home. I know I’d be pretty pissed if Tori did this.’_

Somehow the thought of Tori getting blind drunk and having sex with some random was more amusing than anything that had been said that entire conversation, and Lydia found herself laughing quietly to herself before she could stop it - only interrupted by the sharp pains that dragged little gasps from her every few chuckles.

 _‘Feeling better? Emotionally, that is,’_ Erik assumed with a softer smile, gently taking her coffee from her and resting it on the bedside table so she could stretch (and wince) for a moment before reading his note.

“Aye,” she hummed, genuinely grateful as she hastily shoved her phone away again. No point worrying over it until she was home - she’d had a good fucking time for once and she wasn’t about to cut it short just yet. “I really fucking needed that. Thanks.”

Dipping his head gracefully, he flashed another grin, _‘Good, because we have to check out in an hour and a half,’_ he wrote, _‘I could book you an extra night but I doubt your brother would be happy about it.’_

Tempting. “No, I-.. I should face him before he comes to grab me himself. I’ll go shower and then I’ll go.”

Nodding shortly, Erik left the room again, leaving her alone to get washed and dressed and contemplate her fucking existence. The issues from last night were still swimming around somewhere in her subconscious despite any efforts to wash them away in the soothing shower water, but she frowned and forced herself to ignore them; instead focusing on what was coming next. Elyan aside, what about Tori? Was their guest still hiding out at their house, or had she gone home? Would she be worried about Erik? No, Lydia didn’t suppose so - it seemed like this was something Erik did pretty damn regularly. That being said, Tori seemed like the type to worry regardless - no wonder she hit it off with Ely so soon. The two had probably taken it in turns to list all their worries and compiled it into fucking databases or something to list at her and Erik the moment they walked in the door. It was weird how quickly she and Ely had taken to having them around - well. How quickly Elyan had. Despite the night’s events Lydia still wasn’t sure about the whole thing, but he was treating Tori like an old co-worker or something. Maybe that was just how he did it: client or co-worker, talking to people was always easier for him if he treated them like work. She hated that, but she supposed she couldn’t knock him for his coping mechanisms.

_‘What’s the tattoo?’_

Erik’s ‘voice’ broke through her absent thoughts and she glanced over her shoulder, pulling her jacket on with a frown. If he was going to wait outside he could have fucking stayed there until she was out.

 _‘Got bored, sorry,'_ he hummed, _‘I noticed the butterfly, earlier, on your shoulder blade. Significant?’_

"Aye,” she admitted, presuming he was just curious - he had more than a few tattoos of his own and he didn’t seem like the sort to not be curious about something he had in common with someone. “Josh and my mum. The torn up wing is mum, and the other one is Josh.” It was simple enough - she’d got it for her eighteenth birthday; her own promise to herself that she wouldn't let the second wing fade away. So much for that.

 _'And that one?'_ he wondered, indicating the tattoo just barely showing through the dozen-or-so bands and bracelets on her left wrist: a coral rose, impaled with a dagger.

She chewed at her lip, stiffening a little at the question and adjusting her wristbands to better cover it. "Long story."

Erik quirked a brow but didn't persue it -- he was being too nosy anyway and he knew that. _'Okay. C'mon, I'll take you home; maybe I can take off some of the heat from Elyan. Dunno if you noticed but I'm good at pissing people off so much they forget what they were angry at in the first place.'_

Rolling her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, she followed him out of the hotel, not bothering to try and keep up conversation -- it was too damn bright out anyway.

 _'How's your stomach?'_ Erik, apparently, was determined to make small talk. Eugh.

"Tad better, why?"

_'How d'you feel about taking a shortcut?'_

Oh. Not small talk -- he had motive. That'd be a first. "What kind of-.." Eyeing his hand as he outstretched it for her, her eyes widened a little as she put two and two together, "Can you teleport too?"

 _'Tori's been back to see you both?'_ Shit. So much for keeping that one quiet. Maybe Lydia wouldn't be the only one getting an earful today. Pausing for a moment to frown deeply at that, Erik quickly shook it off and plastered the little smile back on his lips, _'Not quite blinking, no. My way of getting around is less of a jump and more of a-.. sprint?'_

A sprint. She thought, briefly, of how fast those other soldiers had moved; how she'd barely seen them coming before they were on her. "Right-.. isn't your body like-.. built for speeds like that or someshit? Won't it fuck me up?"

Erik shrugged, _'As long as you don't hit anything you'll be fine. And I'll make sure you don't hit anything.'_

The corner of her lip was in her mouth again as she contemplated it. Moving at super-speed sounded like it could go wrong in so many ways; probably some she didn't even have the imagination to think up. But if she was being honest with herself the thought of it made her giddy like she was a fucking five year old about to see their favourite superhero in the flesh. It was fucking exciting as a concept and she wasn't about to deny herself any kind of excitement like that -- especially not when everything else about this supernatural bullshit had been nothing but trouble so far. "Fuck it," she hummed, grinning and taking his hand.

 _'Hold tight,'_ he hummed, pulling her arm to rest around his waist as his own draped over her shoulder; gripping as tight as he could without hurting her. _'First time's a kicker.'_

It was a brief, lurching moment, like the drop in a rollercoaster. Things passed faster than Lydia could process them, eyes squeezing shut, and when she opened them they were outside her and Ely's house, her stomach lurching again as if her insides had to catch up with the rest of her. Erik kept hold of her for a moment, supporting her as she stumbled and tried to shake off the fresh dizziness the sudden movement had washed over her. When she could finally see straight she laughed, clinging to him for a moment longer as giddy giggles only made the dizziness that little bit worse.

 _'You okay?'_ Erik wasn't sure whether to be concerned or laugh with her, gently helping her straighten up before pulling away and eyeing her carefully. She seemed a little pale, but there was a wild spark in her eye, like someone who'd just come out of a ghost train (yes, he'd been on one of those. Tori insisted on going to a theme park a couple of years back and he couldn't say he didn't enjoy himself). _'You're doing better than I did the first time,'_ he hummed, the grin firmly back in place once he'd established she was mostly okay, _'I passed out and broke both my legs.'_

"Shit, really?" That only seemed to amuse her further, but her laughter petered out when she eyed the house again, knowing full well the kind of earful waiting for her inside. "Time to face the kraken, I suppose."

Erik didn't know what that was but he could figure out what she meant, and he offered a short, reassuring smile before following her towards the house. Her movements were stiff as she approached the door, unsurprised when Elyan himself opened it before she could get there. His lips were pressed tightly together, gaze dark despite his otherwise calm expression.

He didn’t say a word as he stepped aside to let them in. Didn’t respond to her apologetic little greeting wave. He didn't even speak once they were inside. Tori was still here, apparently passed out in front of her laptop if the way she was curled up on the sofa with the machine carefully placed on the coffee table and a blanket vaguely draped over her was anything to go on. Erik spared her a deep frown that told Lydia he was definitely going to be having words, but didn't try to approach her as they got themselves settled in the dining room to avoid disturbing her.

And it was only then when Elyan spoke up. “Fifteen calls.”

“Aye, and I-”

“All night.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, I just… It happened,” Lydia mumbled, squirming a little at the tone of his voice - it sounded just like dad’s, when he was disappointed in them. She hated that.

“You never do,” he sighed, shooting a brief, accusing glance at Erik before he addressed her again, “You didn’t even tell me today.”

“I-.. I was just-..” Lydia chewed at her lip, trying to grasp for some kind of response and failing.

Erik didn't even begin to know how to address all of this. For the first time he found himself wondering if this was what he looked like with Tori sometimes, and that thought chilled him for a second. He couldn't say he was intimidated by Ely's quiet fury, but it was certainly... unsettling. Pulling his notepad, he scribbled frantically and thrust it at Ely before he could continue. _'I bumped into her at a bar. She looked stressed so I gave her a night out. That's not a crime, is it?'_

Elyan fell silent for a moment, jaw clenching a little. Erik didn’t know how important this was - how could he? He barely knew them. Ely couldn’t blame him for not knowing.

“Look,” Lydia sighed, thankful gaze passing briefly over Erik, “I-I know it’s worrying,” she sighed, ignoring the dry little huff he gave, “But it was-.. It’s a one-time thing. I swear.”

“Good,” he muttered, voice dull, “Because if it isn’t I want-.. I want to refuse to drag you out of it again, but I know I’d have to - to protect you from them.”

Well that was ominous. Erik glanced at Lydia, sensing there was something more to all of this than just a protective older brother -- in fact, the tone of his voice and the connotations behind his words were awfully familiar -- as was Lydia's sudden shift in mood. Fuck, he practically felt the gust of wind as her barriers shot up.

“I’m not a fucking child anymore, Elyan.” The previously timid tone her voice had held grew an edge, eyes flicking between Erik and her brother; the only sign that her anger was coming from a place of self-consciousness. She didn’t want to be talking about this. She didn’t want to be arguing this. Not now. “I can look after myself.”

“By getting drunk and running off with someone who's practically a stranger? Who could be another trap?” he bit back, though his voice never lifted. “Certainly sounds like it.”

Erik didn't appreciate being talked about like he was going to stab them in the back any second -- especially seeing as he was standing right there with them -- but he restrained himself from writing any responses. Ely had a good point, and if Erik were in this position he couldn't say he'd think any differently. In fact, he didn't; if he'd known where Tori was before he'd stayed with Lydia he might have been a damn sight more angry with her than he was.

“It’s a whole lot better than moping around here all day forgetting to be a fucking human being!” Lydia didn't seem to think it was so reasonable, and Elyan didn’t react to the attack, not even looking at her. “Maybe if you spent less time searching for ghosts and more time actually living you’d be less of a stuffy, miserable git all the time!”

She got to her feet, then; slamming her fist against the door as she stormed out before he could even think about trying to calm her down. Ely just sighed, closing his eyes sadly at the sound of things smashing in the next room. For a moment Erik thought about following her out -- that punch had to have hurt and she was already injured as it was without putting more strain on herself by throwing and smashing shit as well. Instead he merely watched as Elyan ran a hand over his face, pushing to stand himself and walking out without another word.

\--

"You know, s-she's got a point." For a moment Elyan thought he was hallucinating again -- Tori's voice was so small and so cautious from where she lay that he barely recognised it as hers.

"How, uh-.. how long have you been awake?"

"Since sunrise," she admitted, "I c-can't sleep in daylight, much. I-I just like to stay laying down for a while. Helps me think. B-but anyway, she-.. she does have a point. I know-.. I-I know you're scared. I know you've lost family before, b-but she-.. I know what happens when someone's s-stifled and it-.. sh-she deserves to make her own decisions, Ely."

Elyan shook his head at the girl's words, listening silently to the things breaking in the next room and tallying up in his head how much of it would be salvageable - if only to keep his mind occupied. It wasn’t until the sounds died down that he spoke again.

“Last time she did this,” he murmured, voice as level as he could manage, “it was a ‘one-time thing’. Then the next weekend. Then the next day, and the next, and the next… Dad convinced himself there was nothing wrong - I had to help her out of it.” Ely’s gaze lifted to meet Tori's then; he was barely holding it together and the distant, tired look in his eyes made it obvious. “I want to give her the benefit of the doubt. I really do, but… this is more than just reckless. She promised this wouldn’t happen again, a-and that at the very least she’d be open with me if it did.”

"A-ah." Tori nodded slowly, shifting so she was sitting properly and clinging the blanket around her with a thoughtful, understanding frown. "I-I get that. Erik-.. h-he was the same. Still is, a-a tad, but nowhere near as bad. A-a couple of years ago he was completely off the rails. S-sure, he-.. s-sex used to be his job," she continued, cheeks darkening a little at the thought, "b-but the drink, a-and the drugs-.. I d-didn't think he was gonna survive it." Elyan wasn't sure that was making him feel any better about Lydia going off with him, but he stayed quiet to listen to her, lips pressed into a tight line as his arms folded at his chest. "B-but you have to a-actually give her the benefit of the doubt sometimes, you know? R-relapse happens a-and she'll just f-feel more trapped if you don't allow for that. Just-.. maybe you should actually talk to her properly, wh-when you've both calmed down. Investigation b-before conclusions, y'know? U-um."

The look in his eye grew instantly guilty, fluttering closed again with a little sigh. How often had they gotten into arguments that he’d started? He had all the patience in the world, but so little of it was saved for her. “You’re right…” he murmured with another shake of the head, running a hand through his hair. “Y-you’re right, I-..”

"H-hey, no, I-I'm sorry-.." Tori quickly moved to switch sofas, sitting beside him and wrapping her arms around him in a loose, careful hug, "I know this-.. I-I know it's tough a-and I don't-.. I d-don't want to make you think you're being a bad brother, I just-.. S-sometimes we all need someone else to see straight for us, a-aye?"

Her hand stroked soothing patterns along his spine, and Elyan closed his eyes to focus on it; breathing away the panic that threatened to steal his breath. "Aye," he whispered, slowly letting his arms lower from his chest again as he gradually relaxed. "Th-thank you, I-.. I should go check on her. I'm sorry for uh-.. f-for dragging you and Erik into this.

She said nothing, merely shook her head with a smile and watched as he stood up again, seeming to brace himself for a moment before leaving the room once more.


	10. Chapter 10

The next days were a blur of work and copious amounts of tea. Erik had reluctantly allowed Tori to stay and work with them, leaving the building whenever he started to hate that decision — the idea suggested by Lydia and it seemed to be working to keep things running smoothly enough. Tori had come up with three different people besides Jani, all of varying ages but with stories similar enough to raise about a dozen red flags at once.

The first was Luc James, a teen apparently dead in a house fire — except no signs of any body was found and the arson case was rather abruptly dropped. The second, another child: Natalya Akana, both parents found dead in their home and the child missing. Officially, her parents' deaths were mutual involuntary manslaughter during a domestic fight, and Natalya ran away after witnessing it, later to be found and sent to a foster home — but a few files Tori managed to salvage from the early investigations showed that the parents showed symptoms of what could only be described as drowning, and there were no records of which home Natalya ended up in.  
The third and hopefully final missing person was Demi Asato, a young woman reportedly involved in her partner's murder, which wouldn't seem strange — had her partner not been entirely torn in half and their home destroyed, and no actual arrest documented for Demi herself despite a sentence being carried.

The four total disappearances were seemingly spread at random around the state; but they seemed to be heading north, and so Tori and Ely were searching that way — looking for anything out of the ordinary or any spikes in activity. Tori was searching for specific heat signatures and patterns of electricity picked up by satellites and any equipment she could hack; searching for the signs she knew could indicate the Controller's power was in play. What they were doing wasn't foolproof and they knew it, in fact they could miss just about everything, but it was the best they had right now and it would have to do. Lydia was still getting jobs through despite the trickle it had died to before, and as soon as her shoulder was better she was using them to pass the time — taking Erik with her now to save Elyan the stress. So far nothing particularly spectacular had happened but she held onto hope; with Erik at her side she wasn't so scared of being completely fucked up, and if something happened while she was on a job it would at least give Ely something more to go on.

Unfortunately, fighting and hacking weren't all that needed doing. Supersoldiers or no, Erik and Tori were two more mouths to feed and after much debating and a few drawn straws it was Tori and Lydia who ended up having to run for supplies.

"What are the bettings at least one of the boys completely fixed that whole thing?" Lydia huffed, making sure to walk at an absolute stroll just to spite them both. It wasn't that she hated shopping — she could enjoy shopping as much as the next person, but that was when she wanted to shop. Voluntarily. For herself.

"Oh, they absolutely did," Tori chuckled, "B-but I don't know, I-I think it'll be nice to just-.. do something normal for once."

"I can think of about a dozen normal things better than shopping for shit we need," she insisted, "Why don't we slack off a little; do something more interesting before we get the boring shit out of the way?"

"Ely and Erik will know, and they'll _murder_ _us_." Tori's grin was almost as mischievous as Lydia's despite herself.

“Aye, well they’d do that if we hang around in the freezer section for more than five minutes, who gives a shit about Grumpy and the Brain?” Her grin was devilish, already dragging Tori by the wrist, “Let’s go do something for us for once!”

“A-actually, I-..” Tori’s grin grew sheepish again as Lydia stopped to listen, fumbling with her sleeves as she fixed excited hazel on a spot somewhere in the distance, “I-I want to show you something. C-can we-.. can we go to the zoo?”

“It-.. okay? Why?” Scepticism touched her gaze but she hardly protested, following after Tori with a brow raised.

“Y-you-.. everything’s been t-terrible lately a-and-.. y-you need to see the good parts o-of all this; all th-the magic and th-this world they’ve made you part of. Um.” Looking for a moment like she wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying, she glanced back to offer an excited smile, “Ever wanted to touch a tiger?”

 _Touch a-.._ “You’re fucking with me.”

"Nope!" Tori's tone was as airy and eager as always, and Lydia couldn't help but admire how quickly she could go from nervous as all hell to straight-up excited like this. "We could pet a tiger, o-or make a wolf howl a tune! Teach a raven how to say 'nevermore'? C-come on, I'll show you~"

 

She wasn't kidding. Tori didn't hesitate when they reached the zoo; grabbing Lydia's hands in a near death-grip to pull her out of sight of the main entrance. Before she could even begin to figure out what the fuck was going on, her stomach lurched and she found herself hidden around a corner just inside the zoo. Shit. Was that her Blinking thing? Something about it was a fuck-tonne worse than the flitting, and for a moment her head fuzzed and stars danced in front of her eyes. She didn't have the strength to say shit for a long moment but fuck- she wanted to, and it showed in the glare she managed to offer Tori while she leaned against the wall to catch her breath.

"S-sorry," Tori murmured, dipping her gaze guiltily, and fuck— Lydia found for the first time in a while that she couldn't stay mad. The girl was apologising before she'd even said anything; shrunk back like she'd already been scolded. How could she stay mad at that? "I-I just-.. I get excited, I-I'm sorry, um."

Huffing, Lydia waved it off, taking another few moments to breathe away the fuzz and nausea — before straightening up and glancing around. There was a second— a long, awkward second where nothing was said. Tori watched anxiously as Lydia cast her gaze over the bustle and noise of the zoo — before bursting into fits of puffed-out, disbelieving giggles. "I can't f-fucking believe this. This-.. wait." She paused again, eyeing the girl suspiciously, "does this mean you were serious about the tiger thing? How the fuck?"

"You'll see!" Tori beamed, grabbing her by the hand again and dragging her through the zoo grounds, looking almost as excited as the various children who were doing the same with their parents. Lydia stumbled after the surprisingly speedy little woman, just barely managing to keep up as she weaved through crowds of people like they were barely even there. She couldn't help but admire Tori's enthusiasm at least — she seemed to really give a shit about, well— everything. It was equal parts refreshing and infuriating, especially given all the bullshit she'd probably been through.  
(And fuck, how she was able to run barefoot like that was impressive on its own.)

Lydia barely offered the tigers a cursory glance as they approached the enclosure; gaze entirely on Tori as she tried to figure out what would happen from here. She wasn't just going to teleport them in, right? _Right?_

"C'mon, I'll take us in." She absolutely was. Lydia opened her mouth to protest, but there was a glint in Tori's eye that silenced her. She knew what she was doing, right? And if she didn't then it'd probably only be a short moment before she was completely ripped apart by tigers anyway. Why the fuck not, right? Nodding shortly, she let the girl drag her a little way around the enclosure, to a more quiet corner away from the gawking crowds of people trying to reach through the bars. "There, see?" she hummed, pointing to a thick gathering of trees and bushes at a far edge of the enclosure, atop a small cliff. Towards the far wall of the enclosure was a small dip in the land that Lydia couldn't see behind, and that seemed to be what Tori was indicating, "It's a blind spot. If we can get there we can meet one of them without getting caught~"

Meet one of them. Tori was either fucking insane or entirely precious and Lydia wasn't sure she could rule out both as an option. Still, as excited hazel eyes lifted to uncertain ones, she found herself blindly agreeing to the unspoken request there. Clinging tight to Tori's hand, she actually braced herself this time; sucking in a breath and automatically closing her eyes just in time for that lurch to hit her stomach again.

The disorientation was only brief this time; a moment of bleary, dizzy blinking as she acclimatised herself to her sudden new surroundings. Holy shit. They were inside the enclosure. They'd teleported and now they were inside the fucking tiger enclosure. For a moment she almost bolted, having to take a deep breath and remind herself that running would only get her either arrested or mauled by a fucking tiger. So she waited, and looked to Tori instead.

Tori herself seemed completely indifferent to their new location; slightly concerned as Lydia tried to come to grasps with everything but seemingly more interested by her surroundings. Her head lifted slightly in the direction of something Lydia couldn't see, her eyes brightening to an almost luminescent amber for just a second before fading back to pleased hazel as she watched a new figure pad around the corner towards them.

"Holy shit." Lydia couldn't keep the shake out of her whisper; awe and fear in equal parts as she watched the ripple and flex of powerful predatorial muscles approaching her. The tiger eyed her thoughtfully, then turned to pay attention to Tori, who greeted it more like an old friend than the very large, very sharp-toothed beast it was.

"She won't bite," Tori reassured, flashing a content grin and an encouraging nod in Lydia's direction, "I promise."

Lydia frowned, cautiously lifting a hand to brush her fingers along the creature's flank. "Are you controlling her?"

"Not controlling," Tori gently leaned in to nuzzle against the tiger as she murmured, "just-.. nudging."

"You-.. can't talk to her though, right?"

"N-no!" Tori did her best to stifle the laugh that spilled from her throat, soft and bright, "It's more like-.. I reach out to them. With my mind, a-and imagine-.. like a thread, I suppose. It doesn’t have to be that but it just-.. helps me direct my power to visualise it, you know? Um-.. i-it’s easier if I know about the animal in theory, or if I’ve watched them for a while, because then I can understand them. Put myself in a mindset as close to theirs as a human brain can manage, s-so that I’m already connecting before I even r-reach out. And then-..” Reaching a hand out, she brushed gentle fingers over the course fur on the tiger's muzzle, still smiling fondly as it leaned into her touch, “When I reach out, I-.. I can feel them next to me, in my head. Like we’re the same. I can’t really explain it properly, b-but-.. I can feel everything they feel, and know what they want and what they need; even see through their eyes if I need to. I can influence them to do what I need them to, or let them pull me to what they need me to do.” Looking back to Lydia, she shrugged, “That’s why she’s still so calm while you’re here. She can feel that I trust you.”

"Huh." A slow, thoughtful smirk touched her lips as she moved a little closer to the tiger, "You communicate with animals, you heal people, you go around barefoot all the time and you talk like you're straight out of one of those old stage shows where they pause to narrate how they feel in flouncy poetry every few minutes because they can't act for shite. So-.. What you're saying is that you're a Disney princess."

That seemed to hit a nerve, darkening the girl's cheeks as a wide, bashful grin split her face. "When I was little, I-I used to pretend I was Snow White,” she admitted, burying her face in the tiger's flank as she spoke, “I-I didn’t get to watch much of the film u-until I was older but I-I caught a scene by chance once, a-and I was obsessed with it.” Laughing at herself, she shrugged, “That's why I wanted you to see this. It's not all bad, a-and sometimes knowing that what me and Erik are, o-or what we do is just-.. something most people o-only dream about. M-makes some of the bad stuff a-a tad more bearable, i-if that makes sense.”

"Aye." She hadn't thought about it like that, but she wasn't sure if it was reassuring or not. People had some fucked-up dreams and she'd seen more than enough horror movies to know it. Maybe if all you had to hold onto your whole life was Disney bullshit, but life-.. it just wasn't like that. Still, her smile was genuine as the tigress leaned into her hand at last, chuckling as she watched it flop down beside her like a sleepy, oversized house cat.

They stayed there for a while longer, struggling to stay quiet as they fussed their new friend; only stirring from where they knelt in the dirt when the announcement for feeding time rang out over the PA. “Shit, already? How long have we been here?”

“Let’s not think about that,” Tori giggled, nuzzling the tigress one last time before letting her pad away, “Come on~”


	11. Chapter 11

With another swift lurch they were outside the zoo grounds, giggling like schoolgirls who’d almost been caught skipping class. “See?” Lydia chuckled, “life’s more fun when you stop giving a shit what your brother thinks~”

“We are _so_ dead,” was the only response she had, still giggling softly even as they made their way towards what they were _actually_ supposed to be doing.

“Worth it~”

Tori nodded brightly, “ _So_ worth it~” she hummed, apparently about to say more when something caught her attention. As Lydia watched, her gaze grew alert; thoughtful. She glanced about the place, frown only growing deeper the more she looked. “D-do you feel-.. i-is it me, or did it just get really, _r-really_ quiet?”

Lydia quirked a brow, casting a quick glance around. Now that she mentioned it, there was something distinctly-.. _still._ She couldn’t figure it out; all she knew was that something felt _wrong._  
Still, this was the sort of thing that Ely always put her on edge with. Probably nothing. “You’re probably just freaking out cuz you’re not used to- _shit!”_

It was the only reaction she had time to give as she was grabbed from behind and dragged backwards – away from the half a dozen armed men now surrounding Tori. Where the _fuck_ did they come from? There were guns pointed at Tori and she was backing up, eyes wide as they completely trapped her, and the sight of it kicked Lydia into action – dropping sharply to break out of her assailant’s grasp and spinning to face them. Two of her punches landed, but before she could swing a third-.. Shit. Shit. Where did he go? Were these the same assholes who’d attacked them last time? Before she could follow up that thought she’d been grabbed again from behind, grip tighter than before on her arms as the soldier pinned them behind her back. No amount of struggling could break out of this bastard’s hold, as she watched one of the men round on Tori.

“Make this easy for us, Brightheart,” he growled, “Your Controller wants you home, and he wants to know who you’re working with. Come quiet and we’ll only _slightly_ hurt your friend.”

That seemed to reach something in Tori, whose terrified expression immediately hardened just a little. “No,” she decided, voice barely a whisper.

Guns cocked, and the man tilted his head at her; a direct threat in his gaze, “What was that?”

 _“No!”_ In an instant, Tori kicked out; shoving him back and snatching the gun from his hand. Blinking out of the circle just as the men opened fire, blue blades flickered into place around her fists, similar to how Erik’s had been only smaller. She stabbed the nearest directly through the back, and as Lydia watched on she felt the cold metal of a gun against her temple. _How the hell-..?_ She could still feel her attacker’s hands both firmly on her arms still, meaning _great._ There were more of them. Lydia bit down on a frustrated yell, struggling against her restraint.

“Fuck! _Tori!”_ The cry was half-fear, half-fury – they were taking her away. They were dragging her away while Tori was still completely surrounded. Lydia snarled, kicking and fighting and yelling; anything to make it harder for them. “I’ll rip your fucking faces off! _Tori!”_

That was it. Before she could even blink, they were somewhere else. Judging from their surroundings it wasn’t far – she could still hear the gunfire nearby – but it was enough to disorient her. She barely had a chance to gather herself before she was thrown down, landing heavily against concrete only to be dragged up to her knees again. She made to swing at them, still snarling with rage, but the second had her arms behind her back again before she could land anything.

“You’re fucking _dead_ ,” she spat, glaring past the barrel of the gun pointed at her to meet the gaze of its owner.

“Not lookin’ that way, princess,” he chuckled, meeting her glare with a practiced calm, “Let’s keep this simple, aye? Tell us who your hacker is. It’s obviously not you, is it? You’re the ‘all bark, no thought’ type~”

Lydia’s gaze grew darker still. Let them know about Ely? No fucking chance. “Changed my mind. I’ll rip your tongue out first.”

Her comment earned a harsh smack from the butt of his gun, snarling as she spat the blood in her mouth and glared up at him again. “You’re playing a thin line, missy. You’re an ant, aye? Just a pest. I can do more with you than your friend _and_ your boyfriend~”

Lydia sucked in a breath; a subtle action, but there, “What makes you think my hacker’s a bloke?”

The soldier smirked, “Your reaction.”

“So who is he, then? Not your boyfriend – that’s Redwind, isn’t it?” When Lydia remained silent, offering only a brief struggle as response, he rested his gun under her chin, leaning in close and tipping her head up to watch her gaze, “…Brother?” The flicker in her gaze told him all he needed to know, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

The noise Lydia made was somewhere between indignant and murderous, about to respond when something caught her ear. Was that-? It was distant, but close enough to hear – a call; _her name_. From this distance she couldn’t tell who it was, but it sounded male – thank fuck for her paranoid fucking brother...  
A wide smirk touched her lips, taking the soldier off-guard. He hadn’t heard. Frowning, he opened his mouth to question her, but the sound of friendly voices gave her a newfound surge of adrenaline. Building up her strength, she jerked backwards, slamming her head against the face of whoever was holding her and using the motion to kick her legs out from underneath her; sweeping them into the ankles of the one in front of her. He fell sideways, gun firing blindly and skimming her shoulder.

Hissing out a pained breath, she knew she only had a second before they both recuperated. At least the gunshot would give the boys some direction – all she had to do was hold out until then. Twisting out of the more relaxed grip on her arms, she scrambled to her feet, reaching for- _her gun._ Where was her gun? Assholes must have taken it. Gritting her teeth, she rounded on the one she’d knocked over, who was almost on his feet already, and kicked the gun from his hand; diving for it and emptying it into him – leg, arm, shoulder, stomach. None of them enough to kill him straight away. The second soldier was forgotten entirely in her rage, as she bounded forward, pressing her foot down on the wound in his shoulder. This man had threatened her brother. She wasn’t about to let him get off lightly. “Where’s the Controller?”

When he only responded with a cocky, if pained, grin, she changed her direction, kneeling beside him and pressing her thumb into his stomach wound, glaring as he cried out. _“Where is he?!”_

The question remained unanswered, as the second, forgotten soldier grabbed her by the collar, throwing her to the ground again, away from his fellow. She groaned as the friction of concrete tore through her jacket and scuffed up her arms, the contact feeling more like she’d fallen from a motorbike. Before she could regain her senses he was on her, landing a couple of disorienting punches to her face before pulling out a knife; which he pressed tightly enough against her throat to draw a blood. “Last chance, missy. Your brother’ll never see you again.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Lydia’s heart leapt into her throat at the sound of her brother’s voice, just a second before the soldier was briskly dragged off of her and thrown aside. Elyan’s gaze was severe and concerned as he helped her up, and Lydia watched as Erik and Tori – who was bleeding pretty heavily from one leg but still very much alive – rounded on the soldier; the former merely standing to block his exit as Tori plunged her fist-blade into his chest. She let him drop limp to the ground, wasting no time in darting over to make sure Lydia was okay.

 _‘The fuck were you both thinking?’_ Tori winced at the tone of Erik’s ‘voice’, shrinking back just a little (though it could have just been to lean against the wall as her adrenaline wore off). Lydia’s glare was far less submissive even as she leaned against Ely; her voice pained and tired but as scathing as ever.

“We got fucking ambushed and you’re blaming _us_ for it?”

_‘If you hadn’t gone fucking adventuring and done what you were supposed t-“_

_“_ Can we do this somewhere else?” Elyan cut in before he could continue, visibly struggling with himself as he glanced around almost feverishly. “Preferably not out in the open, surrounded by bodies, while both of our respective sisters are injured?”

Erik snarled, visibly more than ready to continue arguing, but something in the way Elyan braced himself against it made him pause; signing what even Lydia could recognise was an apology before moving to support Tori – the four of them hobbling slowly back to the house in silence.


	12. Chapter 12

_'We're leaving.'_

Somehow Elyan's hint earlier hadn't quite reached Erik, because now here they were -- sat at home with an angry voice loud and clear in his head when he really, really didn't need any more of those. He thought about saying something but he could barely get a word in edgeways when every time that voice rang in his head it drowned out any other thoughts there and apparently gave the rest of the voices an invitation to join in the angry chattering.

 Still, he chewed at his lip and tried to ignore it all, gently attempting to patch Lydia up (after about twenty minutes spent convincing Tori she needed to do so for herself before she tried healing anyone else).

 “Erik, w-we just-..”

 _'This happens every time you decide to get friendly with someone.’_ Erik was relentless, and for a moment Elyan was almost glad he had Lydia’s wounds to distract him - the look in the other man’s eye was fierce at best and the damned smoky-eye he was wearing only served to darken it further. _‘We don’t belong out here, Tori. We shouldn’t have even tried this. We don’t belong around people; we’re just defective fucking soldiers they’ll always want to put down.’_

“Th-that’s not true Erik, w-we-“

_‘Do you want another James situation? Because that’s where this is headed and you know it.’_

“Erik-!” Despite the protest, Tori fell silent; hands shaking and tears in her eyes as she hastily bandaged her leg. Elyan stayed silent for a moment, the corner of his lip chewed raw as he paid as much attention as he could to cleaning the torn flesh on Lydia’s arm (and tried to ignore how unusually quiet she’d been).

“We’re safer if we stick together,” he offered despite himself, shooting the pair a troubled glance, “They already know us now. They'll uh-.. They'll-.." What was he going to say? His head was so full of fuzz and noise and worry and it was wiping away any ability he had to put anything he was thinking into words.

“We have to go.” Lydia spoke up at last, her voice dull and distant but her voice shaking with urgency, “All of us. Together. They’ve come for us twice already. Once was _before_ you showed up, in case you forgot – we’re fucking dead without you two.”

“S-she’s right,” Tori murmured, “The Controller’s just g-going to keep coming after them, a-and right now h-he’s one step ahead of all of us. L-leaving them now i-is exactly wh-what he’d want us to do.”

 _‘And what then? He’s not going to let us play happy families forever – fuck, he won’t even have to stop us because_ we _will fuck it up either way. We’re not made to babysit people; we fight, and we kill, and that’s all we’re good for.’_

“Are you fucking serious?” Lydia’s words came punctuated with a sharp hiss, as Ely carefully moved to start wrapping her arm, “First of all, you’ve both already proven that’s not fucking true. Secondly, who the fuck says you’ve got to play happy families? You can fucking sit in a room and throw shit at me for all I care; but if you think for one fucking second that _any_ of us will be better off alone, you’re just as fucking stupid as you sound right now.”

“Th-they need us, Erik,” Tori managed, shrunk back and focused on wrapping up her own leg as if she were trying her best not to be involved at all, even while she spoke, “A-and I think we need them too.”

Erik snarled, jaw clenching and unclenching with increasing agitation, _‘We were doing just fine before.’_

“Oh, before _you_ decided to save _us?”_ Lydia pushed to her feet, then, ignoring Elyan’s stammered protests and moving to stare Erik down, “How about this, then? You leave, you go back to whatever fucking hole you were hiding in before, and we’ll keep doing what we’re doing. We’ll keep getting closer and closer because we’ve got the fucking balls to put our arses on the line, and you keep running home with your fucking tail between your legs the moment it gets dangerous, and _then_ we’ll see who needs who, aye?”

_'If you th-'_

“Enough!” Heads turned as Elyan’s voice rose; just barely, but enough to be a harsh contrast to his usual mellow tones. Even Erik frowned as the girls’ attention abruptly switched, cutting off mid-sentence to see what the fuss was. Ely’s gaze was sharp as it was concerned as he glanced between the three, and as soon as he had their attention he took a breath, brow furrowing as his frustration mellowed to a strained calm. “Like it or not, we need each other,” he managed, taking it slow for now as he struggled to form the words. “All fight-uh... f-fighting amongst ourselves will do is-.. is throw us all off-track. Grow up, g-get a hold of yourselves, and _get out of my head.”_ The last was pointed at Erik, who seemed to shrink a little guiltily into himself despite the snarl still pulling his lips. His fist clenched, and Ely winced as the sound of a pipe bursting sliced into his ears, but with one last frustrated glance between them he sighed and left the room.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-..” Tori feverishly tugged at her sleeves as she watched him go, glancing between Ely and Lydia with a guilty frown, “He-.. h-he’ll calm down, he just-.. d-doesn’t understand th-..”

“You don’t have to make excuses for him,” Elyan assured, “We’ve all got our uh-..”

“Paranoia?” Lydia offered.

“Aye. W-we just can’t let that interfere with our safety o-or your autonomy.” Stress. Too much stress. Elyan sighed heavily, scrubbing at his face for a second and brushing his hair behind his ear a couple of times. “W-we’ll give him a while to cool down and uh-.. and get packing in the meantime. Lydia’s right – we have to go.”


	13. Chapter 13

Erik didn’t return that night. Tori had spent the rest of the day resting her leg, which was fortunately only superficially wounded – a bullet skimming her shin as she took down the soldiers that had surrounded her before. At her request (and in fear of her trying to go find him while her leg was still fucked) they’d decided to wait the night before they left, in the hopes he’d return by then.

Lydia, for one, was grateful for that. She’d agreed to keep her brother company for the night; a quiet plea he’d breathed to her shortly before retreating to sit on his bed. Elyan had stayed very awake and very silent in the hours they waited -- so very awake and very silent that if she wasn’t so damn worried about him, Lydia might have fallen asleep herself. In fact, she almost did a couple of times, only to be woken abruptly by the flashes of spilled guts and bloodied hands that taunted her dreams within minutes of sleeping. She’d done everything she could. Showered off the blood, put on some clothes that _weren’t_ torn to pieces… Ely had patched her up as best he could but her own bullet graze and torn-up arm were burning like fuck, not to mention the slight cut at her throat was somehow stinging just as much, and she knew by morning she’d be covered in aches and bruises. She’d have _loved_ to be not here right now. Maybe turning down the offer to do just that was a bad idea after all.

Still, it didn’t matter now. Packing up and moving on; _this_ was what she was used to. If she didn’t think about the events of the day she could even fool herself this was just normal procedure. They were just following up on something. She’d had one too many contracts here. They had to move on. That was all. She repeated that to herself until she was done, flopping to sit back down and let the nerves overtake her again. They wanted Ely. They’d already taken Josh from her and now they wanted the only brother – the only _family_ she had left. This whole thing just got a shit-tonne more real and she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could deal with.

And Elyan himself-.. He already struggled enough thinking anyone and everyone was out to get him, and now someone actually _was,_ she could already see it getting to him. Maybe it was just the initial shock. Maybe it’d get easier for him once it had settled in a tad. But the concern was still there, especially now she had no distractions from noticing him. He was _staring_. She’d seen him stare like that before, when they were younger, and it never preceded anything good. Her brother was shaking slightly where he sat and the way he was staring was putting her on edge— _he was arguing._ He was arguing with himself, muttering under his breath. She knew the signs and the moment she noticed them her heart sunk; the drop to her stomach acting as the push she needed to move and kneel in front of him on the bed.

* * *

 

>   _Here they come. They’re coming. They’re coming. They’re going to take you away; they’re going to take you all away or kill you and you want it, don’t you? This could all be over. You don’t have to wait for them. Just get up. Get up and join your brother. Find something sharp. **Die**._

“No.” Soft-murmured words, barely audible. Not audible _at all_ to him, over the persistent echoed taunting and commanding in his head. “Have to take care of Lydia. Make sure nobody else gets hurt the same way.”

 

 

> _She’s the reason they’re after you in the first place. Probably working for them all along._

“No. She wouldn’t; she _wouldn’t._ ”

 

 

> _You don’t know that. She never tells you anything. Sneaks out without you knowing. She’s dangerous. She’ll kill you; all of them will kill you._

“They won’t. They want to help. We’ll figure this out, everything will be fine.”

 

 

> _Liar._

“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. Talk about it later.”

 

 

> _You’re lying to yourself. You believe me. I told you they would come for you and they have. And now you’ll die. Just let it happen. You deserve it._

“Go away.”

 _“You’re next.”_ Lydia’s voice. Ely swallowed heavily, trying to will himself to look for her across the room; to convince himself it wasn’t her, but- _“They should have taken you. I never got to know my little brother and now I never will and it’s all because of you. You should have died, not him.”_

“Maybe,” he whispered, “but you won’t hurt me. You don’t mean that. This isn’t you.”

_“What makes you so sure?”_

“Nothing. But you’re my sister and I love you. That’s all I need.”

* * *

 

“Ely- _Elyan!”_ His gaze had flickered down for a second, and when he looked up Lydia was in front of him. She was talking. She was definitely talking this time. He could _see_ her talking; he could feel her touching his face, patting him back to reality, cupping her hands over his ears. “Whatever they’re saying, whatever they’re telling you, don’t you _dare_ listen. We need you here. We need you, Ely.”

“Y-you’re with them,” he breathed before he could stop himself, “Y-you’re with them, you want me gone, you said-..”

“It wasn’t me, okay? I’d never work for them, you know that – I was the one who wanted to fight them in the first place, remember?”

“Wh-what if you tricked me? You wanted to swap him for me; you said you want me dead instead of him, I-“

“No, no no, Ely, no-!” Lydia didn’t hesitate to pull him close, burying her face in his shoulder as he shook and crumbled against her. “Ely, you’re-.. Fuck, y-you’re all I’ve got, no-.. J-Josh-.. I never _knew_ Josh, I just-.. c-cling on to finding him b-because everything’s so fucked and I’m stupid enough to think getting him back w-would make us better.” She was crying herself now, clinging tightly to him as if grounding him was the only thing keeping her centred herself, “A-and now I don’t know what the fuck to do but I-I never want to replace you, you’re the only d-damn thing I give a shit about anymore!”

There. See? Elyan took a deep breath, holding her just a little closer for a moment as he fought to still himself. Even behind the voices, his thoughts were racing faster than he could get a hold of them, but he forced himself quiet for now; letting his tears stop on their own and giving Lydia a moment to settle too. When they finally lifted their heads to look at each other, Ely managed a shaken little smile, brushing a strand of hair away from where it clung to her teary cheek. “I should get to packing.”

With a grateful smile, Lydia nodded, keeping one hand cupped near his ear for a moment; stroking his hair gently. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair on him. He’d been coming out of his shell – actually opening up to strangers for what might have been the first time since they were kids and now-.. now she was wondering if it had been worth all of that for the torment this was causing. Still, she shifted off of the bed, stretching out a little. “Aye,” she hummed, “I’ll get some tea or something.”

“Coffee, please.”

“You shouldn’t drink that shit,” she scolded, smirking a little.

“You just try and stop me~”

With a soft chuckle and a gentle nudge, she slipped from the bed and tottered out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

_'Did I cause that?'_

_"Shit-!"_ Erik grabbed Lydia's wrist just inches away from his face, smirking just barely as she came down from the shock and snatched her arm away from him; hastily wiping her face dry of tears. Huffing, she flicked her hair from her face and glanced towards the bedroom, opting to drag him with her to the kitchen where Elyan wouldn't hear her arguing at apparent silence, "How long have you been standing out here?"

 _'Long enough.'_ Despite the nonchalance in his tone, Erik’s brow was furrowed just slightly in concern; his fingers tapping against his bicep as he moved to lean back against the kitchen counter. _‘That normal for him?’_

“Why do you care?” Lydia almost didn’t bother looking at him as she moved to make tea; only shifting position slightly as she realised he wouldn’t be able to understand a word she was saying otherwise.

 _‘If I fucked someone up that badly, I want to know about it.’_ When all Lydia offered was a sceptical huff, he sighed; ruffling a hand through his hair and dropping his arms to shove his hands in his pockets instead. _‘I was in charge, back at the Facility_ he _kept us at. Superficially and usually only out on the field, but still. I had to hold a group of fucked-up kids together when I was just a fucked-up kid myself. I’ve seen all kinds of fucking meltdowns and sometimes aye: I’ve caused them. I want to know what to look out for and I want to know how to avoid it.’_

“Maybe start with not trying to take away the only fucking peace of mind he’s had his whole life.” The response was snipped and dismissive, and Erik apparently didn’t need to hear it to feel that; his gaze immediately lowering for a moment in his guilt. “You and Tori are about the only proof he’s got that any of this bullshit is real, and probably about the only thing convincing him we might survive it.”

Erik was silent for a long moment, and Lydia could see him struggling to find a response; gaze darting just a little as he searched his thoughts. _‘…I’m sorry. I didn’t think.'_

“No. You didn’t,” she said simply, finally looking at him properly as she waited for the kettle to boil. “So are you staying?”

 _‘Aye,’_ he hummed, his expression flickering for a moment before settling on a cheeky smirk, _‘You’re all hopeless without me~’_

“Don’t get cocky just yet, arsehole,” she huffed, taking a moment as the kettle whistled to prepare the tea before sliding a mug to him and shooting him a dry smile, “You’re still on my shitlist."

Still smirking, Erik made to leave - only for Lydia to stop him, roughly tilting his chin to look her dead in the eye as her expression grew stony again. “Pull anything like that again and I will personally tear every last pretty fucking curl out of your head before that Controller can even think about coming to get you again.”

Erik shot her a look that almost dared her to try, but he gave a short nod, moving to leave again without another word the moment she let go of him.


	15. Chapter 15

It was the early hours of the morning when they were finally settled and packed ready to leave. They took the car journey in silence – partly for Elyan’s sake as he was only just fit to drive, partly just to let the thick ooze of tension pass from around them. Lydia was already agitated again before they’d even reached the airport; fingers tapping against the car door as she stared out of the window with the look of someone who would _definitely_ snap the wrists of whomever would try to communicate with her right now.

The flight wasn’t any better; with little more than a snapped warning from Lydia whenever Ely opened his mouth to speak to her – or when anyone did, in fact. Elyan had to apologise to the stewardesses more than once, and by the time they landed he was sure Lydia would probably have the imprint of her seat’s arms in her palm from where she’d gripped them so tightly.

Ignoring every single one of these warning signs, it was Tori who actually attempted to talk to her, “Bad flyer?”

Elyan had to admit he was impressed by her courage – even Erik seemed to have decided it wasn’t worth even looking at her, and had positioned himself in such a way that he could take a nap without nudging her. Nose in a book, he tried not to make it too obvious he was watching as Lydia huffed; still glaring out of the window. “’M not a bad flyer, you just sit here and wait who the fuck is bad at that-- planes are just bullshit.”

“Th-that’s what I meant,” Tori hummed, the amusement thick in her voice but clearly resisting the giggles she’d probably have at that response. Instead, her smile was soft and reassuring and for a moment he could see why Lydia was so eager to run off with her. There was something contagious about that dimpled smile and something hopeful in her eyes that was impossible to ignore – he imagined she was probably about the only person in the world even Lydia would struggle to be angry with. “Here,” she hummed, tugging a pair of earphones from her pocket and offering it to her, “if you don’t want to talk, a-at least listen to music or something. Sitting and thinking about it w-will only make it worse.”

Lydia shot her an ‘easier said than done’ glare, but didn't voice any protest as she pulled her phone out to bring up a playlist. Without another word, she was staring out of the window again, a little settled but her grip still tight on the arm of her seat. Tori watched her for a moment, brow furrowed in thought, before gently brushing a hand over hers. "...Can I?"

Looking back at her, Lydia didn't bother to disguise the confused suspicion in her gaze, but didn't make any effort to stop her as the medic gently took Lydia's hand in both of hers. With deft and cautious fingers she pressed gentle touches into the other's palm, massaging the marked, dry skin as carefully and thoroughly as she could. For a moment it looked as if Lydia were about to pull her hand back, but with a gentle sigh she leaned back in her seat; no longer staring anxiously out of the window at least. Tori's lips pulled into another smile as she watched Lydia relax -- only slightly, but enough that it seemed to make a difference.

"Thank you," Tori said eventually, her voice softening even further if that were possible. Gaze flicking to meet Lydia's for a second, her smile grew bashful, "For defending me earlier. I-.. a-arguing with Erik isn't my strong-point, e-especially when he-.." Trailing off, she shrugged -- glancing at Erik as if to check he wasn't watching them speak.

"When he brings up James?" Lydia muttered, peeking an eye open to glance at her as she nodded, "Who is he?”

“H-he was-.. we were-..” Tori’s hands faltered for a moment, glancing at Erik again before shaking her head slightly.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Aye.”

“What happened to him?”

Tori bit her lip, attention firmly on the massage she was still insistent on providing. “He died,” she whispered after a moment, “We-.. Erik and I, we’d just escaped a-and I just-.. ran into it all too fast. He was like my prince, you know?” A haze crossed her expression, fingers slowing to a more absent pace, and an airy reminiscence took her voice as if she were sitting at a fire about to tell her story to a quiet gathering. “I met him in a café the first time I got the courage to go out by myself. He was so nice and the weirder I sounded the more he wanted to know about me, I-.. H-he was perfect and I guess that just-.. I g-got too careless, didn’t think…” Swallowing heavily, she gave a shaky sigh before continuing. “We-.. w-we were supposed to have a date – a dance. Erik got me this _gorgeous_ dress and everything; it-.. we both thought that’d be the day we were officially free, y-you know? The last sign we could do what we want and we didn’t have to be scared.”

She fell silent again, and it was only then that they both realised the hand massage had stopped and Tori was clinging to her instead, still and reluctant to back away. Instead of pulling back, Lydia shifted position slightly, taking one of the girl’s hands properly and squeezing gently; her gaze sympathetic. “And that’s when he died,” she guessed quietly, earning a barely-there nod.

“The Controller, h-he sent people to ambush us,” she whimpered, “I-.. sh-should have done something, b-but I just-.. I just hid. Th-they shot the whole place up a-and I just hid, and I-..” Sucking in a breath she took another moment to still herself as her voice started to tremble; quieter than ever as she spoke up again. “I t-tried to heal him, b-but he was already-.. th-there was nothing I could do. Trying t-to heal him just-.. I-I was unconscious for three weeks. Erik had to find me a-and take care of me.”

"Shit..." No wonder Erik was so fucked-up paranoid over her. “That sounds fucked, I-.. I’m so sorry.”

Tori nodded just slightly, lifting her free hand to scrub at her eyes before the tears there could fall. Before she could build up to any kind of response, the plane jolted – Lydia’s gaze shot back out of the window, squeezing Tori’s hand tight and having to take a long, deep breath as she realise they’d landed. Without another word,she slipped her hand from Tori’s grasp, getting to her feet as the plane slowed to a stop and stretching out the aches and stiffness in her various bruises and injuries, before grabbing her bag and pushing her way out ahead of everyone else.


	16. Chapter 16

Their new (temporary) home was definitely not the slum of a motel Elyan had been expecting. Apparently Erik and Tori had their feelers out in all kinds of places, because it had taken them barely a day to find and secure another decent-sized house for them, just outside of a small farming town. It was rustic; old and definitely cozy, but as he looked around the oak beams and fully furnished rooms and made his way upstairs to explore the separate bedrooms, he couldn't help but feel on edge. They shouldn't get used to this kind of luxury. This felt like a _home._ Somewhere to be _lived_ in, not just passed through. That meant any one of them could get attached to the place and that made him wildly uncomfortable. Better to be settled into the feeling that anything could go wrong at any time than to just be _settled._ Settled was dangerous.

Still, it was nice to have this twice in a row. Tori and Erik had gone out of their way to find the best place possible for them at this time and he had to trust them. They'd been doing a far better job of this than he and Lydia had.  
Fake names weren't necessary, Erik had said. Part of the perks of his powers included being able to wipe pieces of someone's memory, and as they were vigilant with removing digital and paper trails as it is then word of mouth was all they had to worry about either way. Elyan wasn't sure he trusted that as foolproof.

Locks. The place needed more locks. On the windows, the doors-.. he'd have to see about installing them. And alarms. Motion sensors. Security cameras as far down the street as he could reach them. If they were going to be one step ahead of the Controller, he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

His laptops were the first things unpacked. Wandering the upstairs hall, he found a small, empty room that would suffice as his office and proceeded to set up each of the computers in a line on the floor. Furniture could wait. He hadn't brought every laptop he owned; destroyed the rest, but those with programs and setups that would be nightmarish to recreate came with him -- the rest were mostly for storage anyway, and he had backups for a reason. 

With the first laptop, he would map out the town's security. Find every camera in town and connect with it; seek out every building and their residents. That would take the best part of a few days. Then there was the facial recognition software he’d have to run again; seeking out any sign of Jani or the Controller. He’d already had to email her mother, let her know they might have a lead on her whereabouts (best not to let on that she was kidnapped just yet. That could open up all manner of issues, least of all Miss Grant harassing them for details and endangering everyone) and they’d be out of state for a while.

He could hear the others scuffling around downstairs, quiet chattering as they unpacked and settled in. He still had a couple of suitcases to sort out, and a room to claim, but in light of everything it seemed almost trivial to think about. The only things on his mind right now were security and his job – and seeing as it’d probably be a little while until they could go out and gather the supplies he needed for security purposes, it was probably worth setting at least _something_ in motion for now. He’d start with the mapping, then look for leads – that should keep him busy while everyone else was messing about.

**HELLO.**

Wait. What? Elyan blinked at the screen a few times, frowning deeply when the bright, bold word that had previously taken up the entirety of his screen was gone like it had never been there in the first place. _Had it_ been there in the first place? Before he could decide which was the truth, another message flickered into place on-screen; neon green and impossible to ignore.

**DON’T BE ALARMED.**

Right. Don’t be alarmed by the messages popping up on his laptop screen at a time of great stress while he just so happened to be alone in here. He thought about calling Lydia, having her check he wasn’t imagining this, but the message was gone again before he could think to call – another popping up in its place.

**I WANT TO HELP YOU.**  
**SO YOU CAN HELP ME.**

_Right._ Working on instinct, he moved to open a note on his screen, typing out a response to what he hoped was a mysterious contact, and not just his mind reading messages into something that wasn’t there. Again. _“Last time a computer told me something like that I was hospitalised.”_

**I KNOW.**  
**I’M NOT A COMPUTER.**  
**I’M JUST SPEAKING TO YOU.**  
**THROUGH IT.**  
**TALKING LIKE THIS IS.**  
**DIFFICULT.  
** **SO LISTEN.**

Elyan made to type another response, but he couldn’t come up with the words fast enough to get them down; his head already scrambling for explanations while a select few voices were jumping for joy at the sight of this. _See?_ They taunted, _We were right. There’s someone trying to contact you._

He did his best to ignore them, brushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear as he watched the screen.

**THE TOWN YOU’RE IN.**  
**IS DANGEROUS.  
** **BUT SAFE.**

Elyan sighed, the hand that was still hovering by his ear moving to run through his hair in frustration, before typing again. _“Talking in riddles isn’t going to help me.”_

**LISTEN.**  
**THE ENERGY HERE IS NOT.**  
**AN ACCIDENT.**  
**RUNAWAYS.**  
**DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILIES.**  
**THEY COME HERE.**  
**SO DO INHUMAN PEOPLE.**  
**IT DRAWS THE LOST TO IT.**  
**THAT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT.**  
**THE OUTSIDE WORLD.**  
**WILL NOT FIND YOU.  
** **BUT THE CONTROLLER MIGHT.**

The moisture retreated from Elyan’s mouth all at once, throwing itself past the lump in his throat and dropping like a weight to churn in his stomach. They moved here to get _away_ from The Controller, not to drop themselves right in his lap.

But hadn’t they also come here in _pursuit_ of the Controller? The longer he thought about their plans the more he realised they didn’t seem to actually _have_ one, and it only served to make the churning in his stomach tighten.

**ERIK AND TORI AREN’T.**  
**THE ONLY ONES WHO ESCAPED.**  
**FIND THE OTHERS.  
** **BEFORE THE CONTROLLER DOES.**

Ely’s hands shook as he fought to swallow the panic in his throat, struggling to think rationally about all this. He could still hear Lydia and the others downstairs. Just-.. call for them. That’s all he had to do, but his throat was closing and he couldn’t form the words to shout. He could physically go and get them but that run the risk of missing something – he’d taped up and fried his webcams years ago, there was no way besides his activity on the laptop itself that this person would know he was still watching. _“How do I know I can trust your word? Or even that you’re real?”_

There was a long pause – far too long. He was seconds away from typing again when another window popped up on screen. An upload. He almost made to block it, if not for the new messages that followed it.

**I’M SENDING.**  
**FILES.**  
**DIFFICULT TO.**  
**BLOCK POSSIBLE.**  
**OBSERVATION.  
** **WAIT.**

Dumbstruck, he waited. Documents and files uploaded themselves one after the other to his computer, all encrypted – and all on the wrong damn laptop. He’d have to spend god knows how long moving them over to his file storing laptop and backing them up, then longer still decoding them-.. Still. It provided him something solid to work with, at least.

**THERE.**  
**THAT SHOULD BE PROOF ENOUGH.**  
**DETAILS OF TOWN.**  
**SECURITY.**  
**HISTORY.**  
**RESIDENTS I COULD TRACK.**  
**SOME BLANK SPOTS.  
** **BUT SHOULD HELP YOU.**

Well, that saved him half a job. Ely was already scrambling to find an external hard drive to put it all on when the next message popped up.

**I HAVE TO GO.  
** **GOOD LUCK.**

_“Wait!”_ he typed, almost impressing himself with the speed he could fly across the keys with only one hand free, while the other attempted to plug in the drive he’d retrieved. _“Who are you?”_

Nothing. Elyan waited for a few moments more, staring at the screen as the files transferred, but minutes passed and there was still no word. Frowning deeply, his fingers tapped impatiently against the laptop as he watched the files transfer, attempting to shake off the paranoia and doubt already tugging at his mind. This couldn’t have been real, right? Messages from mysterious contacts promising him information about his brother—that was the type of rubbish he’d believed in years ago, before hospitals and therapy and medication and a _lot_ of self-improvement and self-care set it straight. This wasn’t something that just _happened;_ the world didn’t work like that.

Still, it had been a long time since he’d hallucinated anything like this. He’d only just started being able to believe everything he saw again, and as careless as he thought it probably was, he couldn’t bring himself to start questioning it this heavily all over again.

So, he decided, he would decrypt the files. At least that was a solid foothold. Then he would call Lydia up, to make sure he hadn’t spent all that time decrypting desktop backgrounds or something equally as ridiculous. That was a plan that could keep him grounded, at least. Satisfied with his idea, he set to work.

***

“And you got all this from mysterious words on a screen.” Lydia’s gaze was nothing if not sceptical when Elyan bounded into their new living room, laptop in hand, and explained what had happened hours before. It had taken quite some time to decrypt all of the files – by the time he came down everyone was already unpacked and settled, sitting around a glass coffee table watching inane rubbish on the TV (while Erik and Tori looked positively confused by each and every advertisement). But it was worth the time – in a handful of hours he’d been given information that would have taken him days to discover. As promised, he’d been given a mapped out plan of the town, down to the nearest detail – there were even notes on certain buildings that seemed out of the ordinary (“Café- only appears at night”) and each of their residents (“Number 30 – Dave Nile. Weird but harmless. Avoid.”). Another file had given him the locations and visibility of every security camera in town. But it was the final two files he was most interested by – the history of the town, and every suspicious or overtly supernatural phenomena reported or witnessed in the past ten years.

“Aye,” he confirmed; convicted if not for the hesitance there. “I know how it sounds, but that’s what happened, and this is the proof I wasn’t hallucinating.”

“Green text, aye? A-across the whole screen,” Tori chimed in gently, glancing up from her own laptop where she’d transferred some of the files and was flicking through them. When Elyan nodded, she flashed Lydia a reassuring smile, “He’s right. We’ve been getting the same.” She glanced at Erik then, who did little more than nod slightly, wary of ‘speaking’ while Elyan was here. “Th-they’ve been feeding us information from time to time –      h-half of the reason w-we even know where to look. We’ve j-just been calling them Green.”

Lydia’s brow shot up. “And you didn’t think to tell us about that?”

“It-.. w-we hear from them so rarely, I-.. It d-didn’t cross my mind, um. I’m sorry.”

Apparently growing impatient with the idle talk, Erik leaned forward a little where he had been lazing on the sofa beside Tori, and tapped his sister gently on the arm. Signing a short sentence to her, she nodded a small agreement before looking to Ely again. “Y-you said Green told you others had escaped. Did they say who?”

Ely shook his head, “Just that we had to find them.”

“Helpful,” Lydia huffed sarcastically, and the eye-roll Erik gave as he flopped back into his lazing position mirrored her sentiment.

“Well…” Tori gave a thoughtful hum, teeth worrying her lip for a second as she flicked through the files on her screen, “I-In that case maybe we should just g-go through the files and figure out what we’re doing from there. Maybe Green left clues o-or something that can point us in the right direction.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lydia agreed, hopping to her feet and flashing a smile at the group, “And while you’re doing that, I’m gonna do something _interesting._ Y’know, actually looking around town. With my actual eyes. Physically. In real life. You should try it sometime~”

“Sounds tedious,” Ely shot back, sparing her an amused glance and a smirk, which she returned before turning heel and leaving the building.


	17. Chapter 17

The town was-.. weird. Strolling casually through the quiet streets, she couldn’t quite tell if it was boring and empty or just plain intriguing – either way, there was an atmosphere about it that she couldn’t quite explain. As far as American towns went, this one was tiny: closer to a village if not for whatever weird-ass rule this particular state decided applied to towns. Population or land mass or something; Lydia had given up keeping track of what different places called their settlements. Maybe it wasn’t even a town; she didn’t know either way.

Still, it seemed nice enough. There were a few places to shop: groceries and gift stores – mostly the kinds of places you didn’t want to stop at too often in fear of ending up on first-name terms with the owners. There were a few bars and restaurants dotted about town, and a small hospital (maybe that’s what made it a town? Didn’t villages just have clinics and local doctors and shit?). Mostly it was just houses, though. Big houses, little houses, cardboard box houses – Lydia chuckled to herself, but she wasn’t wrong; she caught a glimpse of the tell-tale pile of cardboard a homeless person would use as a bed, tucked away in a quiet alley.

Further towards the middle of town were where the smaller, less impressive houses were – apartments above family run shops and blocks of cheaply made buildings piled together in stark contrast to the large buildings with spacious garden areas that the rest of the town’s residents lived in. There was another bar here, this one seemingly far busier than the rest, and Lydia smiled a little as she found herself wandering inside. There were nicer bars around, of course, but this one was smaller and had a more homely, community feel to its wooden beams and ragged seats with dubious stains. Elyan would _hate_ it there, but Lydia was right in her element, sweeping over to the bar with a grin to the tender.

At this time of the afternoon there wasn’t much to look at – just the usual tired eyes and sunken faces of small families trying to keep their lives interesting when they know they have kids to pick up from school soon, and people who come to drink alone and had probably been there for most of the day in some vain attempt to wipe away their loneliness with alcohol. Some game or another was playing on a battered old TV screen and the soft tones of whatever quiet-voiced girl was in the charts right now played quietly from the overhead. There was a gentle stir of chatter about the place, hushed but friendly over the clinking of glasses and the creaking of wooden chairs that had probably been there for longer than the bar itself.

Before she could continue her train of thought, one of the bar’s patrons locked onto her gaze. His eyes were… intense was the only word she could think of to describe them. Bright yellow swimming with curiosity and soft kind of absence as he got to his feet and made his way over, as if taking her narrowed gaze as invitation to talk.

“Didn’t expect to see you in here so soon~” he greeted in a drawl she could easily have heard in some shitty Western, beckoning the barman over with barely a gesture. “What’s your poison?”

“Vodka…” she muttered absently, more interested in the guy himself than anything he was about to buy her. Were those contacts? He couldn’t _actually_ have yellow eyes, right? His interactions with the bartender were so subtle and practiced that she barely even noticed he’d ordered until the drinks were down in front of her and money exchanged hands. Noticing her staring, he flashed a wide, lopsided grin; his lips pulling up to the right as if deliberately revealing the sharp point of his canine. _Holy shit._ Was he a vampire? That wasn’t possible, right? Like, that wasn’t actually a _thing._ Supersoldiers and shit, that could be explained by some kind of pseudo-science or whatever, but vampires were straight-up magic-.. Nah. She was jumping to conclusions; seeing fucking magic everywhere just like Ely did. He was probably just one of those weird fucking vampire “lifestylers” she’d heard about.

“ _Cold confusion dancing in fresh eyes,_  
_“One more weary soul searching for sleep,_  
_“Yet a stranger dances into light_  
_“Searching for the truth that lay beneath…”_ Lydia blinked. Was he speaking in poetry? Great. Barely a day in this town and she’d bumped into fucking Lestat or something. Lydia was starting to think perhaps staying inside with her brother wasn’t such a bad idea after all. _“_ I saw the old farmhouse was occupied at last, and now you’re here – it wasn’t a far leap to put those pieces together,” he continued as if the verse had never been there, “People don’t usually come to the smallest bar in town on their first day here – not unless they want the company of an odd (but handsome) stranger~” The sentence was punctuated by another crooked grin as he made to take a sip of his drink; dark waves obscuring his unnatural eyes for a moment.  
“So what brings you here?” There was that gentle curiosity again, weirdly genuine despite the waves of bullshit she could smell on this guy. “People don’t move here without a story to tell~”

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of ideas on what people ‘don’t’ do,” she huffed, taking a long mouthful of her drink. “Why d’you care?”

“I like knowing people,” he hummed, and while his tone was sincere Lydia couldn’t help but think there was more to it than that, “especially in a town like this. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a verse waiting to be written for them.”

“Right…”

A cold silence fell – or, at least, it was cold on Lydia’s end. The weird stranger was as warm and open as he had been for the whole conversation, waiting for her to finish drinking again before he continued. “Your accent… that’s Perth, right? Scotland?”

 _That_ piqued her interest. Glancing sharply at him, her frown grew deeper, “How d’you know?”

“Spent some time there a few years back,” he admitted, his smile growing shadowed with distant reminiscence, “I’m good with accents.”

“You travel, then?”

"Not anymore." The shadow on his smile didn't budge. "Had a while when I _had_ to, but-.. it’s nice to settle.”

“Aye, I get that. Barely remember the last time I settled somewhere...” She didn’t miss it. Whatever the bullshit, she was so fucking _restless,_ all the time. The longer they stayed still the worse it got – she _couldn’t_ settle, not anymore.

With a shrug, his tired smile quickly solidified again, “I’m Jackson, by the way.”

 _Liar._ The word hit Lydia in the face for perhaps the first time since he’d started speaking, and something distinctly cold touched her chest. There was something about that smile of his that had _lies_ written all over it-- how much more had he been lying about? Had she started spilling secrets to some asshole who’d use it to fuck them over?

...Should have thought of that _before_ talking to him. Fuck. Lydia was beginning to see why Ely was so hypervigilant.

"No it isn't," she said.

“No it isn’t,” he confessed, “but I came here to not be known. You can forgive me for being a little secretive”

Could she? Lydia almost laughed at that, “I’m good at holding grudges, you know.”

“I’m sure you are~” As quickly as it had left, the sincerity and warmth was back, his gaze scanning hers for a moment before he let out another short laugh, “Questions left unanswered sit burning in your eyes,” he said, downing the last of his drink and calling the tender over for another before continuing. “You want to know if the eyes are real. And the fangs.” When Lydia fell silent, quickly averting her gaze to her drink, he chuckled again. “A truth for a truth, okay? What’s your name? Why are you here?”

“That’s two truths.”

“One is a courtesy,” he disagreed, smirking widely now, “nobody said you had to tell me your _real_ name~”

“…Lydia. My name’s Lydia.” Downing her first drink and starting on the second, she shrugged, “I’m here because I’m looking for somebody.”

“Or _running_ from somebody. It’s okay,” he reassured quickly as her gaze shot up again, “So am I. That’s how I can tell. There’s a shadow that cloaks us all; the caution covered carefully by ill-considered charm, that we might hide ourselves in the guise of another…”

He seemed proud of that comparison. Lydia was fairly sure he just made shit up on the spot to sound fancy while saying a bunch of meaningless bullshit. Huffing, she took a long swig of her drink, “Anyone ever told you you’re weird?”

“Here and there—where’s the fun in normalcy? And to answer your unspoken question…” Polishing off his drink, he flashed another grin as he got to his feet, “They’re real. I’ll leave it up to you what that means. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lydia – no doubt I’ll see you again.”

With little more than a glance around the bar and one last friendly acknowledgement to the bartender, he was gone; muttering a verse of poetry as he left.

“ _When foxes eat the last gold grape,_  
“And the last white antelope is killed,  
_“I shall stop fighting and escape_  
_“Into a little house I’ll build…”_

Okay. So the people in this town were weird as hell. Noted.

The next few hours were, by comparison, wildly uneventful, but a combination of alcohol and schmoozing had dropped some interesting information in her lap, at least. Some of it was just trivia about the locals – who was dating who, who broke up with who, who’s in therapy; irrelevant bullshit. But she sat through it, just in case. Ely would care about it all, anyway – something something security blah blah… No, the real meaty stuff came after a few drinks and a chat with the bartender.

“People are going missing.” Heads turned as Lydia swept into the room, tottering straight past them into the kitchen to grab a bottle and a glass for herself before flopping down on the sofa. “All over town. Nobody knows where they’re going but bodies show up sometimes.”

Erik was nowhere to be seen (probably off sulking or painting his nails or something), but Elyan and Tori were still huddled up together with their laptops, and they watched her with a frown.

“What kind of people? Is there an M.O.?” Ely wondered, letting her pour herself a drink before quite pointedly confiscating the bottle.

Barely acknowledging the move, Lydia shook her head and leaned back in her seat, “That’s the thing – it’s random. Kids, adults, men, women… sometimes whole families go missing or show up dead.”

“No patterns at all?”

“Not at first glance,” she said, taking a sip of her drink before leaning forward again; pulling a scrawled, handwritten list from her pocket and flattening it out on the coffee table, “but look: the locals say all of them are bullshit cover-ups. Some are saying they actually _saw_ this shit happen.”

“Attacks,” Elyan hummed absently, skimming over the page with curious eyes. It was a list of missing or dead people, all with official reports and ‘BULLSHIT’ scrawled next to them, followed by various notes on witness accounts. “Lydia this is-..” Chewing at the corner of his lip, he glanced back at Tori, “This is more than we’ve ever seen before.”

Tori nodded, eyes wide at the page, “I-it’s big. They’re working up to something, I-.. last time we took this many we were just kids. We picked up people here and there to replace carers o-or make us stronger, but this-.. this sounds like he’s recruiting again.”

Shit. Lydia fell still, drink paused midway to her lips, “Recruiting as in…?”

“…Making more of us.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Did any witnesses say who they saw? How many?”

Lydia was right about Erik – he’d been tucked away painting his nails, and now had joined them around the table, attempting to sign without smudging said nails while Tori interpreted for him. Still, despite the ridiculousness of his own situation, his expression was stony; grim like they’d already told him his squad were being put down.

“Depends how far back you go. One guy told me there were about twenty of them. One was more specific—said most of them were masked but there were about five of them who weren’t. Someone else said it was four.” Taking another long swig and eyeing what little was left of her drink as if trying to ignore the whole situation, she shrugged, “Someone said there were a bunch of kids with them, once.”

Erik exchanged a glance with his sister. “They’re replacing us,” he signed. “No wonder Green wants us to find the others.”

“Replacing you?” Lydia paused in absently examining her drink with a quirk of her brow, eyeing the two from under her raised glass. “I thought you were the only ones they made; why the fuck would they start over now?”

“Innovation.” Elyan’s voice was grim and quiet as he came to his conclusion, glancing to the others for confirmation and nodding shortly when they returned only sad eyes and heavy sighs. “Use the first batch to make the second stronger.”

“We knew it was going to happen,” Tori breathed, “W-well, most of us did. We’re all-.. w-we were all expendable and we knew it. One day we wouldn’t be useful anymore-- that’s just-.. how things were, for us.”

“Except now it’s actually happening,” Erik added, hands working furiously enough that he _definitely_ smudged his carefully-applied nail varnish, “they’re more expendable than ever.”

“Which I’m guessing is a good thing _and_ a bad thing,” Lydia ventured.

“Yes. He’ll either let us die one by one, or let us escape. Sounds like some already _have_ escaped.”

“And we know at least one has already died,” Ely added quietly, earning a long, sad silence in agreement. “So… we find the rest. Four of us, five of them-.. we can find them.”

“We don’t even know _who_ got out. How many of them. When. Why. How.” Erik pushed to his feet, practically frantic as he ran a hand through his hair; completely uncaring about his half-dry nails at this point. Pacing for a moment, he leaned back against the chest of drawers the TV sat atop, arms folded in thought for a moment before lifting to sign again. “We need to pair up. Two tech, two field -- if we focus our efforts on two each and divide those efforts between surveillance and fieldwork we should be able to dig something up. We can work on the fifth together.”

“And who put you in charge?” Lydia scoffed, glancing from Tori (who was still diligently interpreting for him despite barely having a word in edgeways herself) to Erik with one brow raised.

“Do you have a better idea?” he threw back (though Tori’s translation was far more timid than the half-amused, half-annoyed pout on her brother’s face).

“Tori should pair with Lydia. Me with Erik,” Elyan spoke up before she could respond, gaze sweeping over them all with a thoughtful frown, “One tech to a field; keep all our bases covered.”

In an instant, Erik’s expression slipped from amused authority to confused annoyance, shaking his head sharply and signing so quickly that even Tori had to take a minute to figure out what he’d said – and when she did, she couldn’t seem to help the disappointed sigh that slipped from her. “He says we-.. h-he says I should pair up with him. We know each other, we’ve always worked together...”

“And that’s exactly why I'm splitting you up," he insisted, eyeing them both with the practiced kind of patience that Lydia knew meant he'd go nuts if anyone tried to argue with him. "You're comfortable with each other, but that means you've not had a fresh perspective in-.. I'm willing to bet years. Tori needs space to breathe on her own and Erik, you need to learn to trust us. That's not going to happen if you don't work with us first."

“And,” Lydia added quickly before Erik could argue further, “we’ve already established me and Ely can’t survive this on our own.”

“If we survive at all.”

Giving her brother a grim nod, she continued, “One of you with one of us each gives us a better chance if we run into trouble.”

“ _When_ we run into trouble.”

There was a pause as he seemed to think that through, and Lydia smirked triumphantly behind her glass. He wasn’t so hard to figure out, once she’d seen him with his clothes off~

“He wants to know why you and I are paired again,” Tori meekly translated, avoiding eye contact with Lydia altogether, “after what happened last time we went off alone.”

“Erik is the more experienced of you both in combat,” Elyan stated bluntly; which Tori made no attempt to deny. “I prefer to avoid it when I can. Lydia isn’t infallible but she can hold her own better than I can – we balance each other out this way.”

Erik looked as if he might argue further, but either the severe looks in the siblings’ eyes or a lack of a better retort kept him from fighting the inevitable. Throwing his hands up in defeat, he flopped back onto the sofa; almost sulkily staring down at his ruined nails as he set to chipping the barely-dry paint off of them again.

Satisfied, Elyan nodded, glancing around the group for a moment before returning to his laptop; powering through something Lydia couldn’t see at a pace that told her he definitely, absolutely had a plan. _Detective mode._ “Where do we start?” she prompted, not willing to let him sink into his work without keeping them in the loop. Not this time. Shit was too important for him to take it all on alone. “We don’t even know who’s out and who isn’t.”

“We start with what we know about them – which is a lot more than we would have before,” Elyan explained absently, “Erik, Tori: think. Think about everyone you grew up with. Who do you think is most likely to get away first? That’s where we’ll start.”

There was a split second of thought, before Erik nodded to himself, signing a couple of names.

“Ivy and Violet,” Elyan interpreted before Tori could even open her mouth, earning confused looks from all three of them. Shrugging, he hummed a soft laugh, “I’ve been learning in my downtime. Only figured out fingerspelling so far.”

Lydia snorted gracelessly, “You _have_ downtime?”

“Aye,” Ely chuckled, shooting her an amused glance, “I usually take short power naps between jobs~” When he earned another snigger, he smirked and looked back to his laptop; bringing up a couple of files with another hum. “Ivy and Violet McAlister. Twins from Glasgow… missing from their aunt’s home under ‘suspicious circumstances’. _Officially_ their aunt was arrested on suspicion of kidnapping, but they never found any real evidence against her.” Glancing at Erik, he offered a sympathetic frown at the scowl that news brought to the soldier’s brow. “Why them?” 

“They’ve always been trouble,” Tori explained with a distant smile, “Ivy’s the only reason we still remember our names, and Vi-.. w-well she was always thinking up crazy stuff to get us all out. They never go anywhere without each other, s-so even if one of them got out, they probably both did.”   
Chewing her lip, she looked to Erik again, “What about Ryan?”

“Jennings?” Ely clarified, “Originally presumed dead with his mother in Nairn… His gran kicked up a fuss about it-.. She’s holed up in a care home now.”

“If he did escape he probably didn’t have a choice,” Erik decided, his frown growing deeper at the thought, “He’s too scared of getting someone hurt to step out of line willingly.”

“So why do we think he escaped at all?” Lydia wondered, lifting a skeptical brow.

“If you ask me,” Erik signed, “I’d say none of them did.”

Tori nodded along with her own interpretation, turning to Lydia to add her own comment, “But all we have to go on is instinct, a-and I think-.. I think Ryan got free. Or at least he’s close to. I-I don’t know, um.”

“No, it’s okay; that’s good,” Ely assured softly, flashing a little smile before she could talk herself down too much. “Right now both of you need to trust those instincts. When you know somebody, it won’t drive you far wrong.”

“Okay, so we go for them first,” Lydia said, “and if we don’t find anything we’ll look for the rest.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Elyan gave a sharp nod, “We can take the twins. You two go for Ryan.”


	19. Chapter 19

They set to work immediately - or, at least: Erik, Tori and Elyan did. Lydia, after a long day of drinking and investigating, immediately took a nap. Content to re-paint his nails while he waited, Erik remained with Tori and Ely as they compared files and observances some more. By the time Lydia awoke the three of them had some semblance of a plan to work from: she and Tori would stay in town for now, while Elyan and Erik would brave the city. Elyan wasn’t too fond of the idea, but Erik had explained how the twins were - they enjoyed activity. Bustling city centres suited them perfectly and, honestly, he felt they’d feel safer in a highly populated area than a tiny town like this where anyone could pick them out. So to the city they’d go; see if they can dig up any information while they were there, then come back - hopefully before nightfall tomorrow.

The boys were well-rested and on their way out when Tori decided to wander into Lydia’s room.

It wasn’t a deliberate move, of course - she just happened by and Lydia hadn’t closed the door properly and it swung open when Tori knocked and the open book on her dresser caught her eye and she just couldn’t help herself!

The book was a photo album, so full of printed photographs that it bulged with the density of them all. It was mostly landscapes to begin with: dusky rooftops in the heart of a city; an abandoned warehouse being slowly reclaimed by nature. The further she went along the more her heart pounded-this was personal. This was personal. She shouldn’t be seeing this. Blood-soaked concrete reflecting the sky in painted crimson. Tap water stained the colour of fresh ink in a black-and-white shot of shredded knuckles. A close-up of two blank, staring eyes - blue and sharp. That one was an almost regular, pretty shot, but the eyes held a firm, glazed stare Tori knew too well; and before she could brush it off as her own paranoia she looked closer, just barely seeing the silhouette in its pupils, of a figure holding a gun.

She turned another page and her heart skipped, tears brimming unbidden in her eyes. These were clearly older and god, she hoped they were staged - but something told her they weren’t. These were mostly of Elyan, looking younger; not quite a teenager, but not much older than that. In some, he was staring blankly at what appeared to be nothing at all (though in many his shadow had been edited, stretched in front of him like a demon waiting to swallow him whole). In others, he was in varying states of distress. Screaming. Tearing at his hair; at his own skin. A man she didn’t recognise, most likely their father, tired-eyed and helpless as he carried Elyan away.

The last page was possibly the worst. A report card, torn in half and dropped in a puddle. School test results, mostly fail grades, covering a battered, bloodstained doll like a dress. A self-portrait of Lydia, in a cloudy bathroom mirror above a sink decorated with bloody razorblades and locks of dark hair.

“Who the fuck said you could go through my stuff?”

Tori squeaked as Lydia’s voice cut into her half-trance, scrambling to return the book to the page it had been open on in the first place and turning to face the woman’s accusing eyes. “I-I’m sorry!” she peeped, cheeks shaded a guilty pink, “I-I came to wake you up and it was just there a-and I got distracted I-!”

“So you just decided to barge in and help yourself?” Lydia shot out of bed, barely paying mind to modesty as she threw on a dressing gown and stormed over to slam the book shut. Tori barely spared a glance to her brief nudity, flinching violently as the woman turned to look at her again and fighting not to cower from the fury in her eyes. She paused, then, eyeing the smaller girl with a frown and forcing herself to take a deep breath. She couldn’t bring herself to stay mad at Tori when she looked like she was about to fucking implode. “Look, whatever, just-.. don’t touch my shit.”

Tori nodded sharply, “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I-..”

“Yeah, well…” Lydia shuffled a little in place, chewing at the corner of her lip as she tried to figure out what to do with her if not be angry. This was weird. She didn’t usually meet people she couldn’t be angry with. It was weird. “What-.. what did you want in the first place?”

“I-.. Erik and Elyan are heading out to the city,” she explained, “They want us to get started i-in town while they’re there.”

"Great." Though Lydia's tone was reluctant and groggy, she was genuinely pleased they were actually trying to make some kind of progress rather than what felt like days of just running away from it all. With barely more than a second's thought to her modesty (and poor Tori's already flushed cheeks) she span on her heel to dig through her half-unpacked suitcase for something to wear. "You can stay and stare at my tits if you want," she joked dryly, glancing back at the girl, "but if not I'd probably leave right about now. I'll be out in a sec."

When she finally emerged from scuffling about upstairs she Tori could tell she was prepared to fight this time. Her hair was tied back, and while the simple jeans and t-shirt she'd thrown on were casual enough, but as she came downstairs Tori glimpsed the edge of a knife sheath strapped to one ankle, and the shine of a gun tucked into her waistband. She almost found herself asking how Lydia came across guns so easily, but decided quickly against it -- Elyan had mentioned once that she had a weapons dealing job alongside her mercenary work and that-.. she didn't want to know where they came from or who they went to or what would happen if one day Lydia was caught with them. 

"Where should we start?" Tori's train of thought was broken by the other's question and she started just a little, shaking herself from the catastrophising daydreams she could feel building in her head. Lydia was already slipping on her shoes and jacket, slipping an energy drink can out of the inside pocket and immediately downing at least a quarter of it. 

"Ryan loves plants," Tori explained, "flowers especially. They-.. they're his friends."

"Plants... are his friends?" Great. They were looking for a nutcase. Not that Lydia was really in the habit of keeping company that was arguably normal, she decided, silently reprimanding herself for thinking like that -- Elyan would pop a fucking blood vessel if he heard her talking shit about people in that way. 

"That's his power, um. H-he can communicate with plants. Control them, conjure them, h-he knows what they're feeling and if there's anything wrong with them. He practically is a plant," she half-joked, thinking back to all the times she'd had to sit with him during panic attacks and meltdowns, gently soothing and healing his skin as pieces of it became petals and peeled away from him. "I think they're the only thing that makes him feel safe. If he's here, o-or been here, he's visited the flower shops, or any flower shows or gardens; parks-.. that sort of thing."

"Right." Lydia's tone was skeptical, but reluctantly accepting as she took another swig of her drink and made towards the door, "Let's go find plant boy then."


	20. Chapter 20

"Where should we start?" 

Elyan and Erik had been travelling for about an hour -- Erik couldn't just flit them to the city once Elyan mentioned he could get motion sick. To pass the time Erik had taken to doodling sign language instructions on his notepad for Elyan, leaving the man with a pocket full of folded up scraps of paper and Erik with half a notebook left. Elyan made a mental note to get the Erik a tablet.

 _"Pubs, clubs. Anywhere social and full of alcoholics to fuck with,"_ Erik wrote, _"Ivy's a social butterfly. Violet just likes getting drunk and people-watching."_

"Fun," Elyan sighed. There had to be at least a dozen bars in the city centre alone. "Any way we can narrow it down?"

Erik thought about it for a moment, then scribbled, _"If there's some kind of attraction nearby. Weird stuff especially. Joke shops, museums of curiosities, the weirder the better."_

Okay. That helped. Elyan hummed softly in thought, flipping open the cover on his tablet and quickly searching up locations that could fit the description. "There's a handful of places in the city centre that fit the 'weird' description... One's literally a museum of curiosities, one novelty shop... one's a uh-.. sex museum. And there's a couple of restaurants and bars that do unusually themed food and drinks."

_"Any of those could be good."_

"And there's bars within walking distance of all of them." Elyan sighed, tucking the tablet away as they finally reached their stop, "Let's get to work."

Apparently, finding news in a bustling city of a pair of brown-skinned twins, one blonde and loud; one brunette and nonverbal, was a lot easier than it sounded.

"Saw them in here 'bout a week ago." It was the thirteenth bar they'd checked but that sentence alone, spoken cheerily by the stern-looking lady behind the bar as she glanced at Elyan's counterfeit detective's badge, was enough to pick up the men's curiosity and dust off the layers of fatigue that had started to form on it. "Strangest pair I ever saw, and I've seen a lot of 'em."

"Did they talk to you at all?"

"Nope, not unless they were orderin' drinks," she told them. "The brunette one came in first, just sat there all quiet-like; didn't even notice her 'til she ordered a drink."

"Did you notice anything unusual about her voice?" Elyan wondered, prompted by a hurriedly scribbled note from Erik.

"Not aside from that accent, same as yours, I-.." She paused, then, seemingly thinking through it properly as soon as she'd opened her mouth. "Actually, now you mention... It was damn loud that day, busiest time of day, near-on everyone havin' to shout to get heard and she just... whispers at me. Barely a damn sound but I heard her perfect."

Elyan glanced at Erik, who had paled just a little; something hopeful and shocked glinting in his eyes. He gave the barest of nods, almost imperceptible, to Elyan -- this was definitely Violet, meaning there was no doubt that the other girl was Ivy. Now all they had to do was figure out if they'd actually escaped The Controller or not; and where they went.  
  
"What did they do that night? We need the full story, start to finish."  
  
The bartender shot them both a look that told them she'd much rather be getting on with her job right now, but sighed reluctantly and leaned on the counter as she thought. "After a hot minute just starin' and drinkin' the brunette one gets talkin' to this guy who sat by her. Don't think they knew each other -- tell you the truth I thought she was gonna up and hit him a couple times -- but then the blonde comes in, starts shoutin' somethin' at the poor kid. They start arguin' and I swear to God she almost hit that man her sister was talkin' to, but then she just decided to sit and listen for a while. Then they all left together and that's the last I saw of 'em."

Elyan and Erik shared another glance, the latter rummaging through his pocket to produce a handful of photographs; sorting through them and laying them out while the former spoke, "Did the man look like any of these people?"

The bartender peered at the photographs for a moment, eyeing each mugshot and security camera screenshot of the Controller and Erik's fellow soldiers, then shook her head, "None of those are him."

That settled the question that had been on Erik's mind since the beginning of their investigation. Violet and Ivy had found someone to get them out. He could only hope they were still gone, hidden away with their new friend and not already back in the Controller's hands. They deserved some happiness, even if it were only for a little while.

After some negotiation, they managed to gain contact with the bar’s security. Elyan had to see the CCTV footage of that night and it made more sense to get a hold of it while they were here than to spend more time hacking it. As he sat rolling back through hours of tape, Erik paced behind him; deep in thought. _Ivy and Violet actually got out._ How long would that last? Who was it who helped them? Were they safe? His fingernails dug deep into his folded arms at the thought of the girls finally managing to gain their freedom only to find they were just as fucked as ever with this new man. What did he want from them? What were the chances someone would just help them out of nowhere; that they’d even believe the twins’ story if they told it? The more he thought on it the more his stomach churned, something viscerally anxious telling him this could only end badly for them.

“There.” Elyan reached back to gently tap the other man’s arm mid-pace, cutting into his thoughts and dragging his attention to the screen Ely was watching.   
The man the twins had left with was rugged-looking and tired. Tan skin and an armful of tattoos nursed his drink as he listened to Violet speak; even bought her a drink despite the weary look in his eye. Erik's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he watched them talk, surprised but in no way comforted by the patience this guy had for her broken speech. In the low quality of the camera footage it was difficult to discern what they were talking about, but as he leaned forward to get a closer look he realised just how open she was being -- at least as far as Violet went. Casual, subtle displays of her magic that he clearly noticed. Another look at the man showed exactly why: _he had a tail._

 _Well then._ That explained that. Maybe it wasn't so unbelievable now that they'd run off with some guy. He knew his family -- they'd jump at the first sign of help they got and what better than someone who appeared to be like them? They weren't, of course. Nobody was like them and that wasn't fair but it was the truth. Nobody could fully understand what they were; not even they fully understood what they were. The Controller saw to that.

Keeping a close eye on their conversation, he pulled out his notebook again; scribbling down the words and sentence fragments he could just about make out. _"'Needles and knives', 'Fake free'"_ , he quoted, _"She's telling him about us."_

He smirked a little as Ivy came into frame, practically circling the man as she most likely threw questions at him. Then, after a short back and forth (and a brief competition to see which twin could down a drink faster. Violet. It was always Violet), they left together: all three of them.

"His name is Romeo," Erik wrote after a couple more watch-throughs. "He's a werewolf. I think they're going across the country."  
  
A werewolf. The more Elyan discovered about the world he'd only had nightmares about, the less he found himself surprised by anything he heard. Of course there are werewolves? Why not, aye? Sighing heavily, Elyan gave a short nod; fiddling around with a USB stick and some code Erik didn't recognise, before pushing to his feet. "Let's see what we can dig up on him. They should be easier to find if they're on the run."  



	21. Chapter 21

Three hours and Tori and Lydia weren't making any progress. Nobody had seen anyone matching Ryan's description in any of the most likely spots: not the park at the edge of town, not the fields around their house, nor any of the flower shops in town. Tori was beginning to think her instincts were wrong after all-- it wouldn't be the first time. After asking at the last flower store in town the weight of uncertainty was beginning to steal her breath, heart pounding as a wave of dizziness washed over her.  
  
"I-it's useless," she whispered, hands lifting shakily to hide her face. "He's still there, h-he's still s-stuck in that place, I-I-.."  
"Hey, hey-.." Lydia was feeling the frustration herself, just about ready to break something by the time they were done, but the moment Tori started to shake and hyperventilate she was moving; gently pulling her hands from her face and holding them, just as she would with Elyan. "We're not thinking like that, okay? This was just plan A; we've still got a whole alphabet to get through."  
  
"Wh-what if he's--" dead? Her legs gave out before she could finish the sentence, sinking to the floor as her words became soft, sobbing babble; tears already streaming down her cheeks and dampening her collar. He's dead or he's stuck with the Controller we're never going to find any of them I've failed I've failed--   
Lydia sighed as she sunk down with her, practically hearing the words she knew were spinning in a flurry through Tori's thoughts like a snowstorm; freezing anything positive she could say. "Don't think about that. Deep breaths, okay? We'll figure this out. We'll find him; we'll find all of them."  
Tori couldn't respond, merely whimpered and shook her head sharply. Every breath was a labour, unsteady and ragged as she tried and failed to get a hold on her emotions.  
  
"We will. Breathe with me, come on. You're a medic, aye? You know what this is." When Tori nodded, her frustration with herself only seeming to build further, Lydia sighed and squeezed her hands gently. "Tell me about Ryan. A-.. a story about him, or something."  
  
That seemed to get through to her. For a moment, her brow furrowed like it was difficult to focus and remember that far back, but after a long moment of sniffling and sobbing, she took in a few short breaths and attempted to speak. "H-he-.. One time, b-back-.. back when we first st-started going--.. going on assignments-.." She took a deep breath, breaking a had free to scrub at her face and suck in another couple of breaths, "He saw a-a fisherman by a lake, a-and he was fascinated. Th-threw a huge paddy when the Controller told him to come back to the group, g-got himself in so much trouble, b-but he never f-forgot about it. A-about three years later h-he found another fisherman, o-on one of the missions we could go on alone, a-and he ref-fused to leave until the man t-taught him how." She gave a watery laugh, "I-I don't even think he l-likes fish, h-he just-.. r-really liked catching them and throwing them back. N-named all of them l-like he wanted to be friends with th-the whole lake."  
  
Lydia smiled at that, gently brushing a loose strand of damp blonde hair from her cheek, "Fishing, see? That's something we didn't think of. There's tonnes more ground to cover, okay?"   
  
Tori nodded, managing to draw a couple of softer, calmer breaths; but a soft whimper broke from her throat nonetheless -- the sound so gentle and frightened that Lydia felt her own heart squeeze at the sound of it. Without thinking, she found herself pulling the girl close, gently cradling her to her shoulder and just letting her cry for a little while. She felt annoyance at herself bubble in her throat, biting her lip before she could make a sound about it – Lydia had spent so long mulling and moping over her own life when all of this-.. Elyan, Tori, Erik; they all had so much impossible shit happen and she had the fucking balls to complain about her own? Bullshit. Stupid, selfish bullshit. “C’mon,” she breathed once Tori began to settle, pulling back just a little to look her in the eye, “There’s a couple of lakes in walking distance from here. Let’s go find your brother.”

The journey to the lake was slower than Lydia was expecting. Tori had managed to pull herself together just enough to get up and follow her, but her feet dragged and her legs still looked unsteady. The things hope could do were fucked up, she thought bitterly. The smaller woman had been nervous, sure, but certain of her footing and focused on her goals. Now that it seemed like she might actually find some answers, it was like the strength was gone from her entirely; like whatever bravado was holding her upright was draining away and Lydia could finally see just what a fucking _mess_ she was – and she didn’t blame her. If Lydia had grown up the way Tori did-.. she wasn’t sure she would even manage to hold it together enough to even be a mess _._

A swell of something built in her chest at the thought; pride and sympathy and admiration all in one. If Tori could keep going like this, even when just the thought of hope and the possibility of losing it was enough to panic her so much, then Lydia sure as fuck could help her; Josh or no Josh.

"Well, here it is. Lake numero uno," she hummed dryly as they approached the water. It was relatively small, as far as the American lakes she'd seen were concerned, but beautiful. The sun was high and glittered on clear water, broken only by the few trees that were dotted around the place. There were a few fishermen set up around the place, as she'd expected, and Lydia gestured toward them with a smirk. "You ask around, I'll search the perimeter?"  
  
Tori hesitated a moment, glancing around at the people as if she'd forgotten how to speak, but steeled herself and nodded resolutely, "I-I can do that."

For a moment Lydia thought about making sure, but the resolute glint in her eyes was enough to still her doubts and she nodded, giving her a gentle, encouraging pat on the shoulder before making off in the opposite direction. She wasn't sure exactly what she was looking for -- perhaps anything out of the ordinary? Magic plant boy wandering around, there was bound to be something, right? In truth she just needed to give Tori a little space to breathe: the poor girl seemed never to get a minute to do anything by herself, and Lydia knew the kind of doubts that must put in her mind. She needed to let Tori know she trusted her skills and confidence enough to let her do things alone. That's what Elyan would do, right?  
  
Deep in thought, she almost missed the field she found herself standing in, just a little way away from the water. There was something-.. really off about it, and for a moment she wondered if she was just so used to looking for something weird at this point that she was seeing weirdness everywhere, but no. This was-.. weird.   
The lake was pretty, but not like this. The grass and trees and even the flowers were pretty bland as far as grass and trees and flowers went, but here? Here there were rosebushes and new daisies and roses and poppies and tulips springing up all over the place. The leaves on the more sparsely distributed trees were glinting and healthy in the sunlight; a far cry from the withering, dry appearance of those closer to the lake. Vines wrapped themselves around trunks and slithered along the ground; new and fresh and perfectly shaped ivy leaves decorating every gap and crevice.  
  
And it was isolated. This whole area. It only took a minute or so of walking before she was standing in a normal, boring old field of grass and daisies; like someone had planted an oasis of life in the middle of everything. Lydia stared for a long moment, taking in every detail with a confused, curious eye -- then pulled out the compact camera she took everywhere with her, snapping as much of the spot as she could.

The sheer contrast between the field and its oasis was-.. fuck. She was starting to sound like an art student. Shutting herself up, she got back to less thinking, more taking photographs.

The sun had just set when they all made it back to the house. Though nothing solid had been discovered yet, there was something distinctly more hopeful in the air as they congregated in the kitchen; sharing their findings while they waited for the water to boil. Though Tori was still frustrated that she hadn't come up with anything, knowing that Lydia had at least found something was enough to put the smile back on her face, and it stuck there as Elyan shared what he and Erik had found.  
  
"It's definitely Ryan's work," Tori told them, beaming as she showed them some of the (less artsy) photographs Lydia had allowed her to see, "He's been here!"  
  
"It's not proof he's out," Erik warned, and despite the soft caution in his 'voice' Lydia had to bite her tongue before she ruined the cheery atmosphere again. Tori had enough pessimism and sometimes it felt like her 'brother' was determined to add to it, "but it's a good start."  
  
"Exactly!" Despite her brother trying to warn her against it, Tori's grin was bright as she considered the possibility, "If he's been here that means he might come back, a-and even if he isn't out we could still see him and get him out!"   
  
That idea was just playing with fire; Lydia wasn't sure if she was impressed or apprehensive. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.  
  
"Well for now," Elyan hummed, pausing as he turned away from the group to pour their tea, "we have enough to make some kind of headstart at least. I can look into our werewolf friend and Tori can look for security footage or mentions of Ryan. I have a good feeling about this."


	22. Chapter 22

"I have a bad feeling about this."  
  
It had only taken a couple of hours before the buzz the investigation had given Lydia began to die away, leaving a pit in her stomach where it would have been. The more she thought about it the more this seemed wrong. Too easy. Maybe she was just paranoid or maybe it was just the adrenaline crash she always got, but the doubts were eating away at her mind nonetheless. They were sat on Lydia's bed; Tori cross-legged with her laptop as Lydia lounged against the headboard, thinking deeply in the silence and the gentle sound of tapping fingers on keys.  
  
"How so?" Tori hummed absently, still firmly focused on her laptop. Lydia wasn't entirely sure the girl was paying attention enough to take in anything she could say, but that was fine.

“It’s just-.. weird. How everything was going to shit literally a few days ago and now we’re making so much progress all at once. I can’t shake the feeling like something fucked up is about to happen.”

“I have that feeling all the time,” Tori admitted gently, finally looking over from her computer, “sometimes I’m right, sometimes I’m not. I think it’s just part of having this kind of life; never really knowing what’s going to happen.”

Lydia merely hummed her agreement, sliding down the bed a little to stare at the ceiling. There was a growing weight on her chest that only grew the longer she thought, like the moment she fell silent a rock had settled in her stomach. “…How d’you cope?” she breathed, startling herself with her own honesty.

Tori frowned a little, finally resting her laptop aside and shifting where she sat to look directly at Lydia. There was a soft concern in her gaze; sympathy and sadness to match the feeling in her chest. “This isn’t just about today, is it?” When no answer came, she sighed and shuffled closer; resting down next to her in what little space there was. “It-.. it’s okay to stop sometimes, you know? When I saw Josh-..” She trailed off, sucking in a short breath, “When that happened, I didn’t get out of bed for a week. I had to force myself up and about eventually, b-but just taking that time-.. it helped.”

“But there’s shit to do,” Lydia muttered, “I can’t just stagnate. Drives me fucking insane.”

“Hobbies help,” she tried, “I write, sometimes. Stories are-.. once I started on them it was like they possessed me. The more I wrote the more ideas I had, a-and sometimes they help me work through stuff, y’know?”

"I was never any good at writing," Lydia sighed, "Can't spell for shit. And I don't have much of an imagination. How-.. how did you even figure out that's what works for you?"  
  
“I don't know, it just-.. It’s like there’s all of these worlds and stories inside my head, a-and they just bubble and blow up with nowhere to go. I-If I don’t write, I just-.. stop working. Like all the stories are blocking up my head and nothing real can get out of it.” Tori eyed Lydia with a little smile, “D-don’t you have anything like that?”  
  
Lydia frowned deeply at the look in the girl’s eyes, shrugging, “Sometimes I get like an itch if I don’t take a photo when I want to, but the only other thing I can think of is violence and that’s-.. That’s not good or productive like what you have.”  
  
“The only p-productive thing my writing does is clear my head. If training does that for you, th-then it’s the same. A-and if you don’t like it, then-.. Maybe it’s time you looked for something else.”  
  
“Like what?” Lydia’s frustrations were rising, hand playing absently with the covers, and it took all of her effort not to outright snap at Tori so soon. “Fighting’s all I’m good at.”  
  
“I-I think that’s up to you to figure out,” Tori admitted, shrinking just a little under the woman’s gaze. “B-but maybe if you put more time into the photography it might-..”  
  
“Tried that.” Lydia huffed, shaking her head, “Just ended up breaking three different cameras.”  
  
Tori swallowed hard, her confidence already wavering, “M-maybe you c-“  
  
“Oh, will you just _drop it?”_ Lydia regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, gritting her teeth and bunching her fists to try and regain the control she'd held onto. "Sorry. I just-.. people have tried. I'm a lost cause."  
Tori was shaking ever so slightly, jolted by the short, snapped words spoken so suddenly beside her, but when she spoke her voice was as patient and concerned as ever; despite the hoarse, nervous whisper they presented as. "You're not a lost cause. I don't believe that," she breathed, shifting positions again to return to burying herself at her laptop.   
  
Watching her with more than a little guilt, Lydia couldn't help the little skip in her chest at the sound of those words; and as she fell silent again it was more than just doubts and self-pity swirling in her head this time. You're not a lost cause. When was the last time someone had said that to her? Besides Elyan of course. But he was her brother. He was supposed to say shit like that. Tori was-- well. It was only today that she'd been thinking about how admirable she was, right? To hear something like that from someone who by all means should think she was a pathetic, whining waste of space? _Shit_. She didn't believe it for a fucking second, but hearing it like this was enough to stop her before she could even begin to argue her point. "...Thanks for trying," she whispered, receiving little but an absent smile in response.


	23. Chapter 23

_Dear Nine,_  
  
We met a new person. Romeo. He's nice to us. Impatient, but he lets us wander. He lets us go wherever we want even if he doesn't want us to. I think he worries about us. Cares about us. So we do the same for him. When the full moon came last, he wasn't alone.   
We still chained him up. We didn't know any other way. But we were there with him when he turned, and there when he changed back. We took care of him, like he does for us. It was nice.  
  
  
I know Ivy is scared. I know she never wanted this. She wanted to stay with the Controller, to take care of Ryan and Blade like Erik used to. But Erik knew that if all of us stayed together, none of us would ever be free. I know that too. She doesn't want to say it, but I know my twin. She's happier here, moving around, far away from home. And so am I. I like that he understands me, or... really that he tries to. He's even learned some of my numbers.   
  
Tori wanted a man to save her. Prince Charming. Stories. Josh wanted that too, and he's dead. I was scared when he was nice to me that he'd want that for me. Ivy thought so too. But he's nice. He doesn't want to be my boyfriend. I like that.  
  
I know we don't have long. I know he'll come for us and take us back. But I'm happy here, Nine. I hope he doesn't kill Romeo."   
  
**I MANAGED TO GET IN TOUCH WITH VIOLET.**  
USING THE INFORMATION YOU FOUND.  
  
Elyan blinked as the message, and file, presented themselves on his screen -- over top of the security footage he was still trawling through to find any sign of the twins or their new companion. Pausing for a moment, he glanced over to Erik, who was sat on the sofa plucking away at an old guitar he'd picked up from a thrift store on the way back from the city. His eyes were closed, 'feeling' his way across the strings with a content smirk just barely touching his lips, and for a moment Elyan didn't have the heart to interrupt him. His fingers danced with practised agility, as disciplined and careful as the rest of his posture (no matter how much he seemed to try to perform otherwise), but there was a gentility in his softly furrowed brows that betrayed the calm the music seemed to be washing over him. It was perhaps the most relaxed Elyan had ever seen him.  
  
Still, there were more pressing things at hand. Green had already proven they had little time to wait around, and Elyan needed a witness. Someone to confirm what he was reading was real. Waiting for a lull in the music, he pulled the cap from one of his pens and tossed it gently at Erik, just barely hitting his hand enough to catch his attention. Erik peeked an eye open, a murderous glint in his gaze until Elyan indicated his laptop, meeting his look with an apologetic one of his own. Huffing softly, Erik rested down his guitar and came over, eyeing the writing on-screen with a little smile. Taking his reaction as confirmation this was real, Ely quickly opened a document, typing his messages to Green as quickly as he could.

_"Have you been watching me?"_

**I DROP IN SOMETIMES.**  
TO SEE YOUR PROGRESS.  
OR IF YOU ARE TRYING TO CONTACT ME.  
I DON'T STAY FOR LONG.  
I'M SORRY IF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE.

It made sense in the hectic, moment-to-moment nature of their work, he supposed, making a mental note to start taping over his webcams again. Scanning through the message again, he hummed softly in thought, sketching up questions in his brain as he went along.

_"Why does she call you 'Nine'?"_

**SHE STRUGGLES WITH WORDS.**  
NUMBERS ARE HOW SHE COMMUNICATES.  
EVERY NUMBER MEANS SOMETHING TO HER.  
SO WHEN SHE CAN'T FORM SENTENCES.  
SHE USES NUMBERS.  
ONLY THOSE CLOSE TO HER.  
OR THOSE WHO WANT TO LEARN.  
WILL UNDERSTAND HER.  
SHE LIKES IT THAT WAY.

There was a pause, before a hurried extra message appeared -- as if they'd only realised the question just then.

 **NINE IS HER NUMBER FOR KNOWLEDGE.**  
SOMEONE WHO KNOWS.  
SOMEONE WHO IS WISE.  
THAT IS WHAT SHE THINKS I AM.

Huffing out a soft breath, Erik leaned over just then; nudging Ely's hands out of the way to type a message of his own. _"How do you know that?"_

There was a long, tense silence then. Elyan could practically feel the hostility and defensiveness radiating from the man beside him, which quickly grew to impatience as he made to type another message -- only to be interrupted only a second before.

**WE HAVE BEEN TALKING FOR SOME TIME.**

That didn't add up, and Erik seemed to share that opinion, writing exactly what Ely was thinking. _"You said you found her because of us. We only found out about her today."_

 **YES.**  
I LOST TRACK OF HER.  
BUT WE SPOKE BEFORE SHE ESCAPED.  
I SPOKE WITH ALL OF THEM.  
THAT'S HOW I KNEW THEY WERE GONE.

That changed Erik's tune entirely, his hands shaking as he typed again, _"Are you saying you're one of them?"_

The moments that passed seemed infinite.

**YES.**

Elyan's heart skipped, and beside him Erik inhaled sharply, fingers hovering over the keys as he hesitated with his next question. _"Which one?"_

He didn't know? Elyan frowned deeply at that -- Erik seemed to know his siblings inside and out; if he couldn't guess which one of them it was sending these messages, how could it even be one of them? At the very least he'd know who had the power to communicate with technology like this, surely?

No answer came. Erik huffed again; a frustrated hiss of air that punctuated how sharply he turned away from the screen, stalking away and grabbing his guitar on the way out. Sighing, Elyan posed one last question.

_"Do you know where they are?"_

**NO.**

That was the last they said, the connection dropping almost as soon as the message was sent. Sighing heavily, Elyan glanced back towards the hall, balancing up in his head whether or not he should go and find Erik -- something about Green's words had clearly shaken him and if he was anything like Lydia-..

He was on his feet and searching before the thought had time to finish.


	24. Chapter 24

He found Erik slumped in his chosen bedroom, plucking at his guitar in a sharp, troubled tune. There was a half-empty beer bottle on his bedside table that he reached for every few bars, taking a swig and returning to his music.

As Ely approached, he peeked an eye open -- for a moment Elyan wondered how he could tell through the vibrations in his fingertips that someone was there, but as he glanced down he noticed the man's bare foot was firmly planted on the floor (despite the other being tucked underneath him and covered by a fuzzy, sparkling sock). Waiting for a moment, he only approached when Erik gently inclined his head, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for him to finish playing this time.

 _"What do you need?"_ he wrote eventually, resting his guitar down to replace it with the notepad next to his bed.

Elyan hesitated for a moment, thinking through how he was going to approach the situation. Lifting his hands, he spoke slowly; signing along as much as he could manage from what little he'd learned. _"I wanted to check if you're okay,"_ he tried, _"You-.. Know who Green is, don't you? Or you have an idea."_

Erik looked for a moment like he was about to brush it off, expression stuck somewhere between angry and nervous, and Ely didn't blame him. He'd been little if not protective of his own past and emotions; the stoic, tight-lipped contrast to his sister's friendly, open nature. It was a balance they needed, he knew, and just that he was _trying_ was enough to give Elyan all the patience he needed to approach him with. He was about to retract the question, but Erik sighed just a moment before. _"I don't know,"_ he admitted, _"It's-.. Nobody I thought was alive."_

_"...Meaning?"_

_"Green's power isn't one any of my siblings have. So it's either someone new, or someone I thought was dead."_

Elyan didn't need to hear a tone of voice, nor even the expression on his face, to know which he was leaning more heavily towards. He stayed silent for a minute, leaving the avenue open for him to clarify if he wanted to. When he stayed quiet, gaze flickering as if physically searching through his own memories, Ely didn't push the subject.

_"If you need anything, I'm here."_

Erik looked almost startled. His brow furrowed for a second, blue eyes boring into brown as he held the other man's gaze for as long as possible, _daring_ him to be disingenuous. When concerned gaze never broke his, Erik sighed, nodding gently and picking up his guitar again; the sharpest, most obvious indicator he could manage to end the conversation at that point.

He'd given Ely enough to go on, for now. Green knew a lot more than they were letting on, and if there was to be any kind of trust between them he wanted-- no, he _needed_ to know who they were. If Tori could tell him who (besides Josh) hadn't survived their childhood, he could narrow it down enough to take a good guess -- and then perhaps Green would be more inclined to be honest with him.

It didn't take long to figure out. According to Tori, there was only one other member of their squad she knew to be dead, and within a day Elyan had a message up and waiting for the next time Green checked in.  
"I know who you are."

 

 **I THINK IT'S TIME WE MET IN PERSON.**  
 **MEET ME TOMORROW.**  
 **THE ABANDONED HOUSE NEAR THE HOSPITAL.**  
 **DON'T BRING ERIK OR TORI.**  
 **NOT YET.**  
 **PLEASE.**  



	25. Chapter 25

The house was as most abandoned houses were: overgrown, falling apart. Unspectacular. But it offered shelter somewhere few would look, and the bushes and trees growing around it would offer enough cover to talk without being noticed. There was a gap in the fence around the back of the building, just large enough for someone to slip through, and Elyan made a beeline for it; tailed closely by Lydia. 

"Remind me again why we're doing this behind their back?"

"She clearly doesn't want them to know she's alive, yet," he explained in hushed tones as they squeezed through the gap and into the spacious backyard of the house. "It's risky enough that she's agreed to talk to us directly; keeping up this small sign of trust will hopefully be enough to gain hers."  
  
Angela Mason. Biological sister of Evie Mason; both missing from their home in Inverness as children. Tori had clammed up the moment he asked how Angela died, but however it happened it appeared not to have stuck. As far as he could tell she was the only one to have "died" before Erik and Tori's escape, and judging from their reactions to even the mention or thought of her, it wasn't a good "death". He didn't blame her for wanting to keep this quiet for now.

The house looked like it was beautiful once, a long time ago. Amongst the overgrowth were flowers and plants that had clearly been planted there, and they almost walked directly into a garden shed that was completely overrun by bushes and vines. The house itself was once painted white, with bright, open windows now covered with dust and boards and creeping plants. For a moment Elyan wasn't sure how they were going to get in, but as he examined the boards covering the door, they disappeared -- fading away to reveal the door itself. It was old and faded and pieces of wood still hung from it, like the screws had been pulled out ages ago, but the door was operable and after a confused glance back at Lydia (who was staring and nodding before he even looked, just knowing he'd need confirmation it was real), he pushed it open and crept inside.  
  
The dust had been disturbed recently. There were footsteps and tracks in the dirt and grime on the floor of the once-lavish kitchen, and they followed them quietly, rounding a corner to the living room. The place was mostly unfurnished, save for a couple of old, dusty sofas and a broken down coffee table. On one of those sofas perched not one, but two people. One was an unfamiliar blonde woman, soft-faced and grey-eyed, sat patiently with her hands in her lap. The other was more recognisable, and while Elyan's heart kicked into overdrive, Lydia's blood boiled. Paul Jameson.   
  
"Let us explain," he said quickly, before either of them could think to react to his presence here. Indicating the sofa across from them, he fixed them with pleading eyes. "Please."  
  
Lydia looked just about ready to pounce, but Elyan reached an arm out gently to stop her; as reassuring as it was restraining as he stepped cautiously into the room, eyeing Paul's companion with a frown. She hadn't made to look at them despite the conversation; merely tilting her head up slightly, looking almost like a cat "feeling" her surroundings. Looking closer, he noticed her fingertips twitching just slightly like operating invisible keyboards.  
  
"You're Angela, I'm guessing?"  
  
"I am," she said, barely a second after he stopped speaking, "You're Elyan. And Lydia. Thank you for coming alone." Her voice was struggled and impeded, like it took effort to form every syllable but she wasn't entirely sure how to in the first place.   
  
"What is that?" Lydia, apparently, couldn't contain her curiosity; gesturing to Angela's hands with a frown, "What're you doing with your hands?"  
  
Angela smiled almost imperceptibly. "I'm feeling the air for you," she said, "I-.. think I should start with an explanation of myself, no?"  
  
"Aye, I'll say," Elyan hummed, "Erik and Tori seem to be under the impression you're dead."  
  
"I was," she sighed, "for about ten minutes. Long enough for the Controller to drag me away and have me revived."  
  
"Why? What killed you in the first place?"  
  
"I was-.. the least receptive to his experiments. My powers grew at a similar rate to most of my siblings, but I paid the highest price for them. I started losing things. My sight. My hearing. Then, slowly, my sense of feeling. I only feel anything worth note in my fingers and feet now. Everything else takes a lot of focus. The Controller knew I wouldn't be any use to him in the field; I'd never be worth anything in the squad the way I was. So he told the others to kill me." She spoke the words with the kind of calm that came with having years to come to terms with what happened to her. The calm of understanding and acceptance. "They did as they were told. Since then he's had me working for him in secret, dealing with the menial tasks and taking care of any new recruits. Mostly he just uses me as his guinea pig." Again, despite the tiny hint of spite that was there this time, her words came calm and accepting, "Something already broken, that he can toy with without breaking something useful."  
  
"He doesn't know the extent of her powers." Paul added, "I've been training her in secret. The electrokinesis is a secret only we and the people she contacts can know about, or else this whole game is up."  
  
"How are you talking to us, then? If you can't see or hear?"  
  
"I can read your minds," she said simply, "Surface thoughts. The words you're about to say come louder, and I give a second for you to process and speak them before I respond."  
Lydia and Elyan both stiffened at the idea. Even "surface-thoughts" could reveal things neither of them would want said. It was enough that she could access their computers; their private files. To access their minds too-.. "If that makes you too uncomfortable, that's okay. I can pull back, and Paul's mind will tell me what you say as he processes it."  
  
"Yeah. Do that," Lydia agreed quickly, perhaps a little sharper than she intended.   
  
"The trick with the door outside," Elyan wondered, content to continue with his line of questioning now that had been settled, "was that you?"  
  
"The disappearing boards. Yes. It was an illusion, to "hide" the door from anyone I didn't want finding us. I lifted it when I felt you approach it."  
  
"How are you getting hold of so much information to give us?"   
  
"As Paul said, the Controller doesn't know what I can do. When he's busy, I search his systems. I don't go as deeply as I could in case he has defences, but I get enough that those searching for us will be able to learn more than otherwise."  
  
"She only gets involved when people are actively searching," Paul interjected again. "I tend to step in to-.. discourage."  
  
"Aye, got that much," Lydia hissed, glaring at him, "If you're so fucking interested in helping us then why did you try to kill us first?"  
  
 "You think The Controller is going to trust me after what I did for Erik and Tori? I helped them escape. I managed to worm my way out of being killed but he's had a close eye on me ever since. Offering to lead a clean-up crew to deal with you is all I could have done."  
  
"'Clean-up crew'. Nice." Lydia scoffed, shaking her head, "And if we weren't saved? If your little operation actually worked?"  
  
"I knew Erik and Tori were nearby."  
  
"And I kept the Controller from seeing them in the area," Angela added.  
  
"I wouldn't have tried it otherwise."  
  
Lydia looked as though she were about to argue further, but Elyan lifted a hand to quiet her again. "This whole thing started from a case I got recently. A missing girl."  
  
"Jani Grant." Angela gave a shaky, unsteady nod. "You want to know if we know anything about her disappearance."  
  
"The poor girl was starting to show the signs of psychic sensitivity that the Controller looks for," Paul sighed, "She's one of his throwaways to poke and prod at until there's nothing of her left. She's still alive and I'm trying to keep it that way, but-.. unless a miracle happens I doubt we'll get her back to her family. I'm sorry."  
  
He wasn't surprised. Not in the slightest. But still, he couldn't help the piercing jolt of disappointment that squeezed at his chest, "And what am I supposed to tell her mother?"

"The same thing you always tell them."

 _I'm sorry. Nothing has come up yet and I've lost her trail. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do right now; but don't lost hope. I've never found a case that's truly lost, as long as there's still someone to believe in it._ It was a speech he’d made so many times now he was beginning to wonder if he _ever_ completed a job any more. Chewing at his lip, he nodded, falling silent.

“You should take this,” Angela said eventually, sighing and carefully reaching to pat Paul’s arm. He nodded, fishing in his jacket for a small but chock-full folder and handing it to the siblings. A cursory flick-through revealed  just what a risk it was for her to be here -- files. Similar in nature to the ones she'd been sending them, but so many more and all at once. There were details of the Controller's work, and of the people he'd kidnapped over the years that filled in the blanks in the files he already had. "It's not much, but it's everything I could get for you. Maybe it won't help, but-.. at least you won't be so in the dark."  
  
"All the squad members' files are in here?" Elyan wondered, glancing back up at the two with a greatful, impressed smile.  
  
"Including some of the experiments performed on us, and the more recent squad."  
  
"More recent," Lydia repeated, "so it's true. You're being replaced."  
  
Paul nodded grimly, "He believes he's done what he can with the first-.. 'batch'. There were so many complications-.. so he's making a second."   
  
"He _made_ a second," Angela clarified, "grown from us. Spread out across the world. He thinks the pain we experienced growing up is what made us strong. He wants to see what would happen if we started with our powers and grew into that pain. It's all in the folder."  
  
"We're hoping you'll find what's left of them before he does."  
  
"Wait a minute," Lydia interrupted, chewing at her thumbnail as her mind raced, "If you're alive, that means it's only Josh who died, right?"  
  
Angela nodded slightly once more, gaze flickering down at the memory.  
  
"What if he didn't?"  
  
Elyan heaved a sigh at that, gaze softening again, "Lydia--"  
  
 "No. None of the 'Lydia I know that'd be nice but it's not likely' detective-turned-your-sister's-therapist crap. If she's alive, and she died years ago, maybe Josh is alive too."  
  
"I only survived because the Controller wanted me," Angela breathed, her voice shaking just a little more than usual, "If he wanted Josh too, I'd know about it at least. _Paul_ would know."  
  
"Then what if he faked it?" All three faces held the same sympathetic caution she knew meant ‘if that’s what makes you feel better, Lydia’ and ‘I know this is hard but you have to understand…’, and it made her sick. It was the same look she’d been getting most of her life, from anyone she’d told about Josh. Elyan was always talking about gut feelings, right? All she knew was that she had to find her brother. Or at least see a body to know what everyone was saying wasn't bullshit. That she still felt that way even now-.. that had to count for something. "It's classic, aye? Inescapable shit? Fake your death, hope to hell they leave your body there so you can sneak off when they're gone."

They still held the same look, but she could see just under the surface, in the glint of their eyes, that they all _wanted_ to believe her. That was enough for Lydia. It always had been. “Whatever,” she huffed, flopping back against the dusty sofa and watching them all with a sharp glare, “so you want us to find these new kids now? What about the first lot?”

“Both would be ideal,” Angela sighed, “but I’m beginning to think collecting the children is a higher priority right now.”

“Of course.” Lydia threw her hands up in defeat, scoffing derisively, “Every time we fucking get anywhere, the goalpost moves. You know what? I’m starting to think miss mysterious know-it-all voice on the computer doesn’t actually know _shit all_ about what we should do _._ ”

“I don’t,” she said simply, though there was an edge of annoyance there this time. Her hands stilled for the first time, bunching tightly in the fabric of her too-small dress. “I’m just doing what I can to help my family, same as you.”  
The words were biting and pointed, stilling Lydia’s temper in its tracks and silencing her then and there.

“We’re all doing our best,” Paul tried, his voice finally sounding as tired as his sunken eyes again, “and I know that’s not good enough but our best is all we have right now. I’m sorry.”

“We should go.” Though reluctant, Angela’s voice was urgent; her hands restarting their restless, searching dance, “we’ve already been out too long. We’re putting them in danger.”

“Agreed,” Paul hummed, pushing to his feet and picking up the folded wheelchair he’d rested by his feet. “Can you manage until we’re outside?”

“Of course,” she insisted, allowing him to help her unsteadily to her feet as her twitching and searching increased tenfold; clearly aiding her as she navigated the narrow space between the sofa and table with a similar stiffness and imbalance to that of a child just learning to walk. Managing to seek out the Moores again, she held a hand out. “It was a pleasure to meet you both in person. I hope it won’t be the last time.”

“What do we tell Tori and Erik?” Lydia wondered, ignoring the hand while Elyan politely moved to shake it.

“Whatever you feel is best,” she said simply, turning to slowly make her way out of the room.

“Thank you for hearing us out,” Paul added with a sad smile, following close behind with one arm consistently poised to guide Angela.


	26. Chapter 26

They broke the news as gently as they could. Calling the honourary siblings down to talk, the folder was already resting on the coffee table beside two fresh cups of tea. The look on the Moores' faces were grim and reluctant -- neither knew the full extent of what had happened to Angela, but they knew either way that taking this news wouldn't be easy.

"You'll need to sit down for this." Elyan was the first to speak, and if his words alone weren't enough to immediately set their hearts pounding, the soft, careful tone of his voice certainly was. They both sat, glancing between the two with suspicious eyes -- Erik's firm, Tori's anxious. "We.. just spoke with Green. In person. She gave us that folder."

 _"She?"_ Erik signed, staring down at the object like he was afraid it might bite him.

"What's in it?" Tori wondered quietly, reaching for it when his only response was to nod towards it. Flicking through, she paled. "This-.."

"They're your files. Only surface-level, but there's original copies of all your birth information, and some of the-.. missions you've been on."

 _"Have you read them yet?"_ Erik asked quickly, trying and failing to conceal the way his eyes widened and his hands shook while he signed.

Elyan shook his head, watching Tori as she flicked through the files, pale and visibly trembling herself. "She's someone on the inside," she realised, the words barely audible like she were frightened saying the words out loud might bring tragedy in itself.

"Erik and I figured that out shortly before I left," Elyan hummed, watching as the pieces clicked together in the girl's mind and her eyes widened; sparkling hazel lifting to meet Ely's in a silent plea. Whether that was a plea for him to be lying or a plea for him to be right, he couldn't tell. Maybe it was a little of both. He'd seen so many variations of the look by now that he was starting to lose track.

"You asked-.. o-oh gosh-.." Tori put the folder down slowly, shaking violently now as she drew her knees to her chest. "That's not possible..."

Erik frowned at her reaction, quickly turning his gaze to the siblings in silent question. This is it. It had to be said. Sharing a glance with Lydia, he heaved a heavy sigh, steeling himself for any possible response that could come. "Green is Angela."

The response was immediate, telling Ely that Erik had already known what he was going to say. He inhaled sharply, breaking eye-contact as a muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched; desperately biting back the tears Elyan had already seen well up. He swallowed them back, then shook his head; huffing out a disbelieving, humourless laugh before pushing abruptly to his feet and leaving the house -- the front door slamming unceremoniously behind him. For a moment they all looked as if they wanted to follow him, but collectively decided to give him space -- especially as Tori was already sobbing gently into her knees. Ely and Lydia shared another glance, the latter switching chairs so she could sit beside her. "Talk to me," she murmured, gently pulling the other close, "this is a good thing, right? Your sister's _alive_."

Tori nodded hesitantly, the unspoken 'but...' written all over her face. It took a long moment with her face buried against Lydia's shoulder, and a few heavy gulps of air, before she could manage to get any words out. "I-it's been so long," she whimpered, having to pause for another few seconds as her voice broke and dissolved into a fresh round of tears. Elyan nudged her tea a tad closer, his smile holding all the patience of someone who'd had to do this far too often. Giving a thankful smile, she just about managed to take a calming sip and continue, "Angie-.. sh-she's-.. That whole thing w-was-.. He made us _fight her!_ Sh-she wasn't worth anything to him anymore, s-so we had to kill her. As a lesson. We're all expendable." The last words were bitter and distant as she shook her head. "I-.. T-told myself-.. A-at least she wasn't trapped anymore. I thought-.. she-.. She was always obsessed with angels, when we were kids, b-because of her name, I-.. Used to tell myself that maybe she was one now. That she was free how she w-wanted to be. I t-told myself that every day, o-over and over again u-until-.." She broke off, clinging tight to Lydia as sobs overtook her words again.

"Until you believed it," Lydia sighed, shooting Elyan a pleading look. She understood what Tori was saying completely -- and that was the problem. She didn't know what to say that wouldn't make this worse; what _could_ she say? She'd told herself for years now that she'd find Josh and everything would be fine. Now she was telling herself there was a chance he wasn't dead after all. How could she help Tori through that?

"It's always better to know the truth," Elyan told her gently, "I know-.. I can't imagine how much it hurts, knowing after everything that she's still trapped there. But she's helping us. She's helping _you_. After everything she's still finding her own little ways of clawing at freedom. One day soon that'll pay off, and you can be with her again. With all of them. That's a lot of hope for one person to give, aye?"

Tori couldn't help but smile at that, a teary, wobbly glint of nostalgia in her eyes, "She always wanted to be our guardian angel..."

"And now she is," he hummed, matching her smile, "and she's _alive_. That's a good thing, Tori. It means she still has a chance to experience life the way _she_ wants to."

Her first instinct was to argue with that – to say _no, she doesn’t. She never could and she never can. She lost everything to the experiments._ But that wasn’t fair. Angie had never cared about her “disabilities”. She’d managed to smile through every loss of sense, despite her tears: _“Angels don’t need to see. Angels don’t need to hear”._ Even when they were told to kill her, she managed to put up a good fight against all eight of her siblings. Tori knew without a doubt that she’d find a way to live the fullest, happiest life she could if she got out. Sniffling, she managed another little smile, nodding where she was still curled up in Lydia’s arms.

Deciding that was the best he’d get, Elyan offered an encouraging smile and pushed to his feet. “I’ll look for Erik. If they’d told me one day I’d end up with _two_ Lydias to look after…” he muttered teasingly, trailing off with a smirk as he made for the door.

“We look after _you,_ asshole~”

“Aye, keep telling yourself that...” Chuckling softly, he left it there, strolling outside and letting out a relieved breath when his suspicions were confirmed: Erik hadn’t gone far. He was sat just outside their front lawn, leaning back against a tree with a distant look in his eye; already-dried mascara tracks marring his cheeks. “Talk to me,” Elyan murmured, kneeling just in front of him and doing his best to sign along again, “It’ll never leave you alone otherwise.”

 _“And you’d know?”_ Erik threw back, earning a laugh from Elyan.

“Nowhere near to the extent you do, but-.. in a way, aye,” he sighed, "Things have a tendency of-.. getting stuck in my head."  
  
Erik all but winced, nodding apologetically, _"'Course. Sorry."_

  
"No need. Just-.. tell me what's going on in yours, aye?"  
  
Erik's expression hardened again, looking as though he'd snap back, but after a long moment he deflated; gaze lifting to the sky again for just a moment. _"She's really alive?”_

"Aye."

Elyan watched him bite back tears again. _"It should-.. be good. It should be a good thing. You have no idea-.."_ Pausing to scrub at his face and sigh at the black smudges it left on his hands, he dragged in another breath. _"Angel was everything to us. To me. She tried so hard to make sure we still had something to be happy about, even when we were just kids-.. the guilt, that-.. that's not going away easy."_

"You did it, didn't you," Elyan realised, the gentle calm never leaving his face even as his brow furrowed a little more. It wasn't a far leap to make: even if all of them had to fight her, it didn't take eight people to kill one. Someone had to take the final blow and he doubted adults would be thinking clearly enough to do it together, let alone children. Erik had to have been put in charge of them all for a reason. It made sense, and he hated how much it did; especially as any and all guard crumbled from his face for possibly the first time since they'd met, tears streaking his face again before he could think to stop them. 

 _"I never meant to,"_ he signed, the words taking Elyan a tad longer to figure out than it would in the first place when his hands were starting to shake almost as much as Tori's were. Seeming to realise that himself, he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, forcing back the tears and scrubbing at his face again. _"I never meant to,"_ he repeated, his expression hardening as it grew distant again.

"I believe you," Elyan breathed, "and even if I didn't, I'd believe you didn't _want_ to. Erik, the things he made you do; the things he drove you to-.. who he forced you to be is not who you are now. I know that, Lydia knows that. I'm sure Angela does too."

 _"Then why the fuck did she talk to you and not us?"_  
  
Elyan only smiled sadly, "Would you have let her go back?"

That stumbled him, shaking down his hard edges just as quickly as they’d returned, and the only thing that stopped Ely’s smile turning triumphant was the sudden flicker in the other’s gaze: from shaken and upset to just plain _frightened._ “Erik? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t get an answer, but the urgent look in Erik’s eyes was enough to get him moving, following as he darted indoors and shared a look with Tori; who was sat bolt-upright where she’d been with Lydia, the look on her face almost matching her brother’s for urgency. They exchanged a long look, each silently pleading the other to tell them they were wrong; but no such comfort came.

“He’s here,” Tori breathed.


	27. Chapter 27

_No._ No, no no, not now… they were only just starting to make any kind of headway; Elyan hadn’t even read through the files yet. Did Angela send him here? Paul? Did they get caught? While Erik and Tori jumped immediately to action; making sure the doors and windows were secure and locked to at least slow him down a little, Elyan and Lydia stared at each other in shock, each of their thoughts holding them in place while they whirred through questions and panicked scenarios. If the Controller himself were here for them? _You’re going to die here._ Elyan didn’t need to hear the whispers in his head to be certain of that. Flashes of that unwavering, piercingly calm face shot through his mind, watching on as his men tore their family’s house apart. Almost as a warning, a twinge shot through his scarred shoulder, snapping him back to the here and now. He span to move next to Erik, who was watching through a peeked curtain to figure out where the assault would come from. “How can we help?” he asked, resolute despite the shake in his voice.

 _“You leave,_ ” Erik insisted firmly, signing the words but ‘speaking’ them to the others in the room.

“Not happening,” Lydia hissed, trusting Tori to pass on her words. “We’re not leaving you here and fucking off.”

_“This isn’t your fight.”_

“Yes it is.” This time Lydia and Elyan spoke together, glancing between Erik and Tori’s uncertain gazes with firm ones of their own.

“You’re part of this family now,” Lydia said, “your fight is our fight.”

 _“Josh’s_ fight is our fight,” Elyan added.

Tori’s brow furrowed, her entire demeanour changed to something focused and experienced; stance firm and chin high despite the terror in her eyes. “You’ll get yourselves killed,” she tried, the underlying wobble still in her words and betraying them as more than just a warning.

“So be it,” Elyan said simply.

“Living’s overrated anyway,” Lydia added.

The two exchanged unconvinced looks, but Erik nodded, beckoning them over. _“He’s not too close yet,”_ he signed, letting Tori interpret this time. _“but he’s in the area. Don’t panic; arm yourself and keep an eye out. There’s no use running until we know he’s here for us.”_

Lydia scowled, “Who else would he be here for?”

“Angela told us this entire town is bustling with psychic activity,” Elyan realised, “he could be here for _anyone_.”

Lydia dragged a hand through her hair, re-tying the loosening ponytail there and nodding shortly; darting upstairs to come back with a couple of cases that she rested on the sofa and clicked open. One was filled with a small supply of pistols, thrown in haphazardly to reduce storage space for travelling purposes. The other held a couple of bulletproof vests she’d swiped from one of her more paranoid (or smart, she supposed) hits. Tossing one to Elyan, she haphazardly donned the other, smirking at the disbelieving look Erik and Tori gave her.

“Where were those when we met?” Tori wondered incredulously, earning a cheeky shrug.

“Don’t usually expect the other guys to get a good shot in before I’m done with them,” she hummed, “so I don’t usually need it.”

“She’s arrogant and has a death wish,” Elyan clarified, only half-joking to counteract the harsh pounding in his chest.

They were interrupted by a sharp gesture from Erik, still watching out the window while they all spoke. Leaning in to see what he was seeing, a tense stillness fell over them all.   
It was eerie, seeing him in person again. Elyan felt his throat close as he watched him stroll through the middle of the road, tall and self-important. They could practically _see_ the power around him, and it was only punctuated by the small troupe of people following behind him. His heart sunk as he recognised the wide, dark eyes and tawny beige complexion of Ryan amongst them; a quick glance at Tori and Lydia telling him they’d already noticed – the former’s expression as disappointed and heartbroken as Lydia’s was furious.  
The others were easy enough to figure out, simply based on their files. A young, feminine redhead – they had to be Angela’s older sibling, Evie. Closest to the Controller’s side was a strawberry blond lad with a set jaw and piercing green eyes: that had to be Edward Moray-Anderson (whom Erik had once insisted was going by just “Blade” now).

 

They were all there – all except Angela and the twins, he noted with triumphant warmth in his chest.  It wasn’t much, he knew, but it was enough to celebrate the little victories as they came.  
It was the rest of the troupe that interested him most. Paul was there, of course, but to the other side of the Controller was Luc James; one of the more recently missing boys, looking curiously pleased to be there. Trailing behind the entire group was a small group of _children._ One was another recently missing person: Natalya, looking meek and frightened with little black curls falling over her eyes. Guiding her were two children he didn’t recognise: a blond girl with only two fingers and a thumb on each hand, and a smaller brunette looking rather like she might bite the first person who came close.

 The group moved slowly; leisurely, the Controller’s power and confidence only punctuated by the barely-masked (and, in some cases, not masked at all) fear in his followers’ eyes. Elyan held his breath as they approached their front gate… then gently exhaled as they moved straight past, heading for a house further towards the middle of town.

“They’re recruiting,” Tori murmured, “a-and training the new children, I-I think.”

“We can’t just let them take someone,” Lydia insisted, barely even realising she was whispering in the tense silence.

“We can’t help. W-we don’t stand a chance against all of them.”

“There has to be _something_ we can do!”

Erik shook his head, signing an apology as he returned to watching out the window. The Controllers squad were standing outside a building barely close enough to see, in tight formation behind him as he stood patiently at the door like a normal visitor. Elyan shuddered as he remembered how calm his voice was when it echoed through your mind so loud and so wrong; the bargains he tried to make. Offers to spare their lives if they only give up the one he wants. He shivered as he imagined how many families might just hand their child over at the sound of his threats.

Not this family. After a long silence he flicked his wrist just slightly, blasting the front door inwards in a clatter of shattered wood and glass. Elyan stared as they all entered, his blood running cold at the thought of what might be happening in there. He knew which house that was: it belonged to a family of five – four young children and a single father struggling on their own. Flashes of his own father thrown limply to one side flickered in his mind. It wouldn’t take much for the Controller to get what he wanted here.  
In seconds his legs were carrying him; taking him to grab a handgun and leave the building before anyone else could process what he was doing. His hands shook as he fired at what little of the group was left outside; a combination of warning shots and aiming to incapacitate. He managed to hit a couple: Evie and Ryan. The latter fell to his knees, a wound pierced through his leg. The former stumbled, eerily silent save for a sharp intake of breath – especially since the bullet had shot clean through her shoulder. They turned to face him, eyes hazing to a cold, soulless silver, but their attention was soon taken by Ryan as he seemed to struggle to breathe through the pain and blood blossoming at his leg. For a moment Elyan saw petals falling from his hands where he clung to the wound. He held his gun steady at them as he drew closer, but neither bothered to acknowledge him; knowing full well someone else likely would. He didn’t falter as he entered the house; couldn’t afford to now. In just the short time it had taken him to approach, the place was already ransacked: shelves knocked to the floor and doors torn from hinges. There was movement upstairs, but Ely’s attention was on the four remaining downstairs.

One was the father who lived here, crumpled on the floor and cowering from the two looming over him: Blade and Luc. Paul stood a little way away, observing them with those same sad eyes that seemed to be consistently plastered on his face at this point. As Elyan entered the man’s face grew despairing, shaking his head as if hoping he could silently persuade him to turn around and leave before he was noticed. Elyan ignored him, quickly dispersing a bullet into the leg of each assailant – only to pale as neither of them seemed particularly phased by the injuries. Luc winced, turning around and frowning at Ely as if he’d just thrown a spitball. Blade froze for a second, stumbled, but gritted his teeth and made no sound of pain, he too turning to face Elyan with a decidedly more frustrated glare.

“Elyan Moore,” Luc hummed, flashing a sharp grin and lifting a hand to stop Blade before he could pounce. “I’ve heard good things about you. I knew you had all the manners of a suicidal nutcase but this is something else.”

“Luc James,” Elyan returned, hands visibly shaking but voice as steady as he could make it. “You lost your home in a fire. Arson. You seem pretty happy working for the man who did that to you.”

“Did it to me?” Luc laughed; a silky-smooth chuckle that seemed to reverberate around Elyan’s skull and dig its way into his ears. _“I_ burned down my house. I came _willingly._  The Controller gives me a cushy deal. I help him out, he feeds me and I don’t pay rent or hide what I am.” As if to punctuate his point, his eyes flashed red and something flickered in the shadow he was casting on the floor.

“And that’s worth killing and kidnapping children for?”

Luc tilted his head to one side, mock-thinking about it, then shrugged nonchalantly, “Yup.”

Elyan’s heart missed a beat. Of course out of everyone the Controller had recruited, _some_ of them might have been amicable to his terms, but actually hearing that nonchalance to the hurt he was causing sent another chill down his spine. “And you,” he persisted, turning to Blade, “you were kidnapped as a child. Taken from your family. You could escape, you know. Others have managed it. He probably won’t even care much; he’s clearly replacing you already.”

“Liar,” Blade hissed, the look in narrowed eyes was defiant and cold, holding the same careful ignorance he’d seen before. Flashes passed through his memory, of his father’s eyes bearing down on him; _magic isn’t real, Elyan. Your mother and brother died in a car crash, Elyan. You were there too, remember? Have you taken your medication today, Elyan?_ “Everyone who got away was weak. We know where they are. They’re not really free, just stupid. We need replacements for them.”

“Is that what the Controller tells you?” Elyan scoffed, “It’s true, you know. Why would he need replacements for them if you know where they are? Why not just get them back?”

“They’re not loyal.” Blade’s hand tightened over the knife he was holding – Ely could see his knuckles whitening as he considered whether or not to just kill him then and there. “The Controller needs loyalty.”

“The Controller needs brainwashed slaves.” Elyan couldn’t help the frustration in his voice, his aim wavering as he realised just how brainwashed these people were. Their entire lifetime raised by someone like the Controller – no wonder only a small handful of them could find the will to escape. Considering the evidence, it was a miracle that even _that_ had happened. He glanced at Luc as the boy laughed again, stepping back with a little affirming gesture to Blade; and Elyan could barely suck in a breath before a knife embedded itself in his thigh, knocking him to his knees with a choked cry. Barely hesitating for another second, Blade pulled another throwing knife from his belt, poising to throw – only for a gunshot to ring out, tearing the weapon from his hand. He bit back a cry, struggling with his composure for a moment and glaring out of the door; searching the rooftops opposite for some sign of who had fired.


	28. Chapter 28

 Shit. _Shit._ She should have known Elyan would pull something like this. Lydia watched him run off before she could react, the three left behind sharing grim, fearful looks. Only Lydia and Tori made any move to follow, however, both looking at Erik expectantly as he shot them a warning look.

“Why aren’t we going after him?” Lydia demanded.

 _“He’s made his choice. If we charge in there we’re all dead.”_ Now that Elyan was away he spoke telepathically, and as mad as she wanted to be with him she couldn’t ignore the urgency and guilt in his ‘voice’. Hissing out a breath, she glanced around the room as if searching for ideas. Erik was right, annoying as that was. They couldn’t just charge in after him when they were the only ones they knew of who were actively trying to do something about the Controller. If they died here it would be all over, and for nothing. Chewing her lip, she tapped Tori gently on the back, gesturing for her to follow, and darted upstairs.

“How are you at sniping?” she asked, hunched awkwardly on the floor as her arm searched through the mess of boxes and bags under the bed.

“No good with a rifle,” Tori admitted, “b-but I’m a sharpshooter with a handgun.”

“Great; you’re all set then.” Finally finding what she was looking for, she dragged a large case through the mess and tugged it free, springing up to dump it on the bed. “I’m good with a rifle,” she hummed, opening the case and quickly moving to assemble the hunting rifle inside, “My boss used to send people to train me in shit that might be useful, and-.. well, what’s more useful to a merc than guns?” Striking a pose with the gun, her grin faltered as she finally saw the look in Tori’s eyes. The girl was stock-still; practically shell-shocked. “…what’s up?”

“I-I just-..” She huffed out a soft, humourless laugh; eyes sparking with tears. “You’re really doing this. H-he’ll-.. The Controller’s going to kill you.”

Lydia chewed at her lip, watching the barely-masked panic in her eyes with a sigh. “If he kills my brother, he might as well have done that anyway. I have to try.”

“I-I know, I just-..” Swallowing, she looked for a moment like she was trying to force the words forward. “Y-you’ve been-.. I-I just don’t want to lose you.”

Lydia stopped dead, shaken into silence by the admission. When was the last time someone said that? It seemed like she was thinking that a lot lately. If not for the pulsing urgency in her chest she might have taken longer to think about it, but impulse pushed her forward, lifting Tori’s chin to steal a cautious, gentle kiss.

It was entirely too brief, but it felt like an eternity. Her lips were soft and warm and Lydia could feel the tremor in them; frightened and uncertain as she melted slowly into it, subconsciously moving closer until they had no choice but to break the kiss – merely standing there, wrapped in each other’s embrace for as long as they could possibly get away with.

“You won’t lose me,” Lydia breathed, giving her a gentle squeeze, “I know you’re scared. I-.. I’m scared too. But I need you out there with me.”

The trembling had progressed to her entire body now, but the nod she gave against Lydia’s chest was firm and resolute. As she pulled back, her heart skipped: there was fear and uncertainty and panic and doubt in her eyes; her entire expression swimming with conflicting emotion -- but there was a soft adoration there too. Regret and hope and determination all at once. Lydia couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked into someone’s eyes and seen so much laid out in front of her; an open book she could read from a mile away.

For perhaps the first time in a long time, she found she _wanted_ to survive this. The shock of that thought almost stopped her, but her mind dragged her quickly back to Elyan and the urgency resettled in her chest. Brushing a loose strand of hair from Tori’s cheek with a carefulness that startled even herself, she offered one last reassuring smile before making her way back out of the house. Erik’s gaze was despairing as he watched them go, but both girls spared him only an apologetic glance each before they were bounding away towards the trouble.

The spot they found was out of sight, at least. Tori managed to blink them inside of a home across the road, thankfully empty at that moment in time, and Lydia was set up in the top floor window overlooking the house below. Tori was poised just out of sight by the same window, peering around to keep an eye on the scene.

This wasn’t good. Elyan was in way over his head and Lydia could tell he knew that. If she were honest she was surprised he’d made it as far as getting _into_ the building – the two wounded outside were already recuperating: Ryan visibly sucking in breaths as he pressed the petals he’d shed against the wound in his leg, focusing hard as the delicate pieces faded into skin and closed up the wound.

There was movement from an upstairs window – the Controller, speaking down to someone far below him: most likely one or all of the children he was here to snatch. She lined up the shot; could it really be this easy?

A sharp gasp from Tori distracted her before she could find out. She moved to see what the other was looking at, her chest squeezing as she saw her brother just visible inside the open door, wounded and his attacker rearing back for another strike. Fuck. _Fuck._ She couldn’t realign her shot in time, not without risking hitting Ely by mistake, but if she didn’t he’d be dead then and there either way, _fuck-  
_ A shot rang out beside her, deafening her for a minute. She watched as the knife fell from Blade’s hand -- then quickly moved out of sight as he turned towards them. Lydia stared at Tori, already taken cover at the other side of the window. She’d said ‘sharpshooter’ but that-.. she wasn’t expecting that kind of accuracy. For a moment she forgot the level of torture and pain it must have taken for her to get that good. There was none of the underlying sympathy she knew she’d hate someone to feel for her all the time. She just saw Tori; a girl stupid and talented enough to take a shot like that, and now that she’d noticed her properly—she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t more than a little attractive.

Tori must have noticed the look in her eye, because her cheeks were bright red by the time she felt secure enough to peek out of the window again. The Controller had moved – from their vantage point they could just about see his feet, stood directly in front of Elyan. Despite her previously steady hand, Lydia could feel Tori start to shake at just the sight of him, and there was the sympathy again – a bubble of anger in her chest on behalf of everyone he’d fucked this badly. Sighing as she realised they weren’t going to get a good view of everything from up here, she gently tapped Tori’s shoulder, leading her to a downstairs window. It was riskier down here, but at least they could actually see everything.


	29. Chapter 29

“Young Mister Moore...” The voice sent a chill up Elyan’s spine, almost completely distracting him from the burning pain in his leg as he lifted his head to its source.   
The Controller of his memories was a dark, imposing monster; all sharp eyes and impossible height. Seeing him as an adult was somehow worse. It was easy to imagine the child-stealing mother-murdering monster as just that, but this was just a _man._ A person. Unassuming, if not for the aura of power that radiated from him. It was hard to imagine one man could cause so much pain and fear, and he’d _seen_ just what the Controller could do. For a moment he wondered how many people he’d indoctrinated that way. Did he flash Luc a smile and act like what he was doing was normal? Did he convince some parents to just… hand their children over? Tell them they were going to a boarding school?

Somehow that didn’t feel like the Controller’s style. But still, looking at him now-- he felt like it was something he _could_ do if he wanted to. When someone can get away with doing evil things, it’s scary. When they can get away with doing evil _and_ convince you they aren’t in the same breath? That’s _terrifying_.

“How you’ve grown,” The Controller continued, glancing over him with the same appraising look he’d given Josh so long ago – Elyan remembered that look like it was burned into his mind. It followed him as a teenager. It became part of his ‘imaginary friend’ as a young adult. He thought he’d finally shaken himself free of it but now here it was, in the flesh. It was a struggle to remind himself this was all real – in fact, if Lydia and the others hadn’t seen them too he might still think it wasn’t. “And how little you’ve changed. Still throwing yourself mindlessly into harm’s way, I see~”

“I won’t let you take another child.” Though his voice shook and his breath hitched in panic, dark eyes held firm on impassive blue as he spoke. He tried to stand, sheer adrenaline pulsing past the pain in his leg and allowing him to stumble to his feet. Now he was standing, there was little difference in height between the two men, and yet somehow the Controller still felt like an engulfing, imposing presence.

“And perhaps, today, that could be true.” Elyan’s heart sank even deeper into his chest as the corner of the Controller’s lips quirked into a smile for just a moment and he realised just what was about to be asked of him. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you and your family, Mister Moore.  You’re a bright man, and persistent – few have made it this far. I could use someone like that.”

“You killed my mother,” Elyan scoffed, “kidnapped my brother; scarred me literally and figuratively. And now you want me to _join you?”_ Still shaking but resolute, he managed a short huff of a laugh. “Go to hell.”

The Controller’s gaze remained impassive, but for a moment Elyan thought he could see the barest spark of amusement tough his face. “Then I’ll make the decision easier for you. Bring them in.”

The last was an order to someone out of sight, and Elyan paled as he watched the figures approach from the stairway. One of the children of the house; a young albino child of barely eight years old, dragged by the hand by a figure he so wished wasn’t familiar.

_“Miss Grant?”_

“Oh, please, Detective,” the woman laughed a casual chuckle, as if chatting with an old friend, “Call me Cathy. We’re way past formalities now, I think.”

“Why..?”

“Well you weren’t doing anything, were you?” she hissed, and finally Elyan saw the malice in her eyes – the cold edge she’d concealed so well when they first spoke, “My baby girl was out there, alone, and you buggered off to _America._ And then I find out – not from _you,_ mind – that she’s _dead._ And where were you?”

“I was trying to learn as much as I could before—“

“ _Bullshit.”_ Her calm wasn’t holding so strong now; cheeks blazing red with indignance as he watched her grip grow just a little tighter on the child she held; who was apparently frozen stiff with fear at this point. “Controller’s told me about you. How selfish and fucking obsessive you are. Got one whiff of all this and didn’t give a shit about me or my daughter anymore.”

Ely could have defended himself, but he didn’t. He merely stared tight-lipped and annoyed as she continued her tirade, already glancing around the room to see what he could do. Blade and Luc were watching with gleeful little smirks on their faces, still stood either side of the child’s father: face bloodied beyond recognition and whimpering babbled, futile pleas. The three children he’d seen before were watching from the corner, clearly trying hard to stay quiet and obedient despite the frightened defiance he could see in their eyes. The rest of what was left of the squad had already closed in behind him, blocking his escape – and, most likely, the aim of whoever was backing him up. _Please, God, don’t be Lydia._


End file.
